Find My Way Back To You
by DeliriousMess
Summary: So this is an AU where, sure Jennifer's died, but did she really? Dwight got a ding on her credit cards, and a friend says that someone who looks suspiciously like Jennifer has been seen around Boston. If it is Jennifer? Then why hadn't she come back to the Rouge? What could keep her from coming home? And why doesn't she seem to remember anything about Haven or the Barn?M: Swearing
1. Chapter 1

Duke was back on the Rouge, getting ready to make good on his long standing promise to himself to get the hell out of Haven. Now that the whole Mara/End of All Times/Great Suffering situation had finally calmed down, and the Personality-Formerly-Known-As-Audrey was back running the show with Nathan, he knew it was time. The Troubles were over, what more could he do?

Maybe he'd go somewhere sunny.

They had talked about that a few times. "Somewhere Sunny;" where she could wear a bikini, and she could have a drink in a coconut which she said was something she always wanted to do, and they'd swim in the ocean and lounge on the beach all day, and forget about things like what day of the week it was and what was happening in a little Troubled town somewhere in Maine.

_"You think I could get flowers to stay in my hair? Or, ooh, maybe I could put them in_ yours_!"_

Duke slammed the cooler he'd been carrying on to the deck. No. Not today. He'd been careful; everything she'd owned had been carefully put back in her room, and the door had been locked; he'd pushed as much of her down and away from the rest of the world, from himself, as he could.

"Not today." He mumbled, rubbing his face and still leaning on the cooler.

"Heading somewhere?" a familiar voice called from the pier.

Duke sighed as he stood and turned to see Dwight boarding the Rouge, part of him glad for the distraction. Duke paused, feeling as if something was missing from the police chief when it dawned on him: the bulletproof vest.

It was still strange to see him without it.

Who knew that his shirts actually continued under the thing?

Duke shrugged, throwing his arms up into it, "Not much to _stay_ for, 'Squatch. Figured you would've left this town in your rearview long before now."

Dwight shrugged back, not nearly as emphatically, "Still work to be done. Now that my life doesn't flash before my eyes every time a gun goes off, I can do a lot more for this town."

Duke hazarded a smirk, "And the fact that 'Chief Hendrickson' has a certain ring to it, has _nothing_ to do with it?"

"You said it, not me." Dwight said, returning Duke's careful smile with his own.

Duke nodded, "Good. They can use all the help they can get in this town, Troubled or not. I, on the other hand, am going to get the hell out of dodge while I can. This town has…taken _more_ than enough from me."

Duke leveled his gaze at Dwight, "I don't owe it _anything_."

"I never said you did." Dwight replied, crossing his arms.

Duke let out a mirthless chuckle as he turned to the cooler he'd earlier slammed onto the deck. He pulled a beer out of it, letting the lid close, and opened the beer. He sat on the lid, gesturing towards Dwight with the bottle, "It's why you're here, isn't it? Or do I need to ask to see a warrant?"

"No. Nothing like that." Dwight leaned against the railing of the boat. There was a pause as Dwight seemed to be considering how he wanted to say whatever it was he'd come to say.

Duke took a swig of his beer, "I've had bad dates that've been less awkward than this, Dwight. What's going on?"

"It's about Jennifer." Dwight said, watching Duke carefully.

Everything about Duke seemed to freeze and turn rigid. Dwight was reminded of making eye contact with a mountain lion and realizing you'd crossed into its territory and it was waiting to see how much farther you were willing to go before it struck you down.

Duke held his beer in his hands as he asked coldly, "What about her?"

"When she was…_here_," Dwight began, deciding it was best to say "here" rather than "alive," and shifting slightly against the railing, "She'd gotten nervous about someone stealing her identity—I think it was shortly after the Tyler Incident."

Duke nodded stiffly, looking just to the left of Dwight and keeping his face stoic. The memory of what Tyler had done to him flashed in his mind, but so did what Tyler had made him do to Jennifer.

_"I don't know who you really are, but I will shoot you and I'll probably accidentally hit you in the face so don't come near me."_

_"You kissed me."_

_"You kissed me back."_

"So she had asked me to keep an eye on her card activity—listing me as a contact with the company—in case anything strange popped up, and when she'd…well…I had taken the liberty of canceling her cards, but a few days ago something…something came up."

Duke looked at him, his anger already starting to show through the careful emotionless mask.

Dwight stood from the railing and risked walking closer to Duke, "Is…is there anyone in Boston who would know how to get her card activated? Did she ever mention—,"

"Are you trying to tell me that someone stole her identity and is using her cards back in Boston." Duke asked, but his cold tone made it sound more like a statement.

"I'm not sure." Dwight conceded, uncrossing and then recrossing his arms, "I had a friend of mine in the Boston PD stake out one of the places that this person seemed to frequent. He…he said he saw a woman making the exact purchase that'd been logged by the company that matched Jennifer's description damn near to a 'T'."

Duke's gaze turned lethal, eyes narrowing in anger, "Is this some kind of fucking _joke_?"

Dwight shook his head, "If I had thought it was, I would have dealt with it on my own. Is there any chance that—,"

"No." Duke nearly shouted, "No there's no _fucking_ chance that it's her."

"Duke, I didn't—,"

"_I_ was the one who ID'ed her." He was shouting now, and stood up, throwing his beer bottle down and shattering it against the deck, "Now you're fucking telling me that someone has stolen her cards and is just…just living _her_ life? I'm gonna _fucking_—,"

"_Duke_." Dwight shouted back, cutting him off. Duke staggered slightly, as if Dwight had struck him across the face. Dwight stood next to him, posture squared as if he expected Duke to throw himself at him, his gaze steady. Duke glared back at him, his hands shaking at his sides, but he kept from shouting back.

"I don't _know_ what this means, Duke. I just know that you had a _right_ to know what I've found." Dwight said calmly. Duke clenched his jaw but nodded, taking a few careful breaths, as Dwight began to walk away.

"What do you expect me to—," Duke began to say.

"That lantern I gave you." Dwight interrupted, pausing just before he reached the stairs back down to the pier and keeping his back to Duke, "The purple one. Did Jennifer do what I asked? Did she write something for Lizzy?"

Duke nodded carefully, though clearly confused at the turn in the conversation, "She, uh, she wrote her a letter, along with everyone else Haven lost to the Troubles. She…she told them she loved them and that they were missed. She told Lizzy that you were a hero."

Dwight bowed his head at that, and let out a chuckle, "That was good of her."

Dwight reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope and set it on top of some crates next to him, tapping it gently, "She was too kind for the things that happened to her."

With that, Dwight went ashore, not looking back. Duke crossed the deck and picked the manila envelope up carefully. He looked in the direction that Dwight had gone, only to see his car pulling away. Duke opened it and pulled out everything Dwight had on whoever it was that was using Jennifer's cards.

Duke let out an agitated breath through his nose.

So much for going somewhere sunny.

* * *

><p>"Jennifer!" a voice yelled from the spiral staircase in the back of the bookstore. Jennifer sighed as she marked the page of her book, hopped from her stool behind the counter, and headed towards the voice. She glanced at the couch that was tucked among the shelves of the Fiction section across from her, regarding the large black Great Dane that hadn't even perked his ears up at the noise, "No, don't get up, Little John, <em>I'll<em> take care of it."

Little John only wagged his tail as she spoke to him, earning an eye roll out of her.

She leaned against the poles of the banister and looked up towards the beaded curtain of the loft, "Yes?"

Her cousin's head popped out from the curtain, causing a makeshift rain sound. The long part of her brown hair was still wet from the shower she had taken, the right side of her head looked freshly shaved, and her glasses looked the slightest bit fogged from being left on the bathroom counter. She looked down at Jennifer through her black rimmed glasses, "When was your thing with Holly? I was thinking of closing early and taking Brielle out for ice cream, but you know how cranky she gets when she doesn't get to see her favorite 'auntie.'"

Jennifer giggled, "Adelaide, you _know_ I wrote this on the calendar."

Adelaide gave her an incredulous look, "We don't own a _calendar_."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Adelaide it's on the wall behind you. I can _see_ it."

She pointed to just over Adelaide's left shoulder. Adelaide glanced there, pausing as she considered the tropical calendar that was, indeed, hanging just behind her. In cheesy postcard font across the image of the beach were the worlds, "Visit Somewhere Sunny!"

Adelaide turned back to her, "Well maybe I just wanted to hear your melodious voice."

Jennifer rolled her eyes as she twisted her left wrist to look at the time, "I should have time for at least _one_ 'I Believe I Can Fly,' once she gets here."

Adelaide grinned at her, "You've just saved the world from one _very_ cranky six year old."

Jennifer shrugged, "It's a skill. I've got 'Jennifer Mason: Placater of Cranky Six-Year Olds' printed on all my business cards. Right next to 'Hot Chocolate Connoisseur,' and right underneath…"

Jennifer trailed off, a dull throb suddenly pulsing just behind her eyes. She rubbed her forehead, trying to alleviate the pressure that had sprung up. Little John, who had apparently decided that the mention of hot chocolate must have something to do with him and was now standing next to Jennifer, nudged her elbow with his nose. Jennifer scratched him between his ears and tried to smile at him

"Underneath…?" Adelaide prompted, though she sounded, briefly, like she was saying it from far away.

"Hm?" Jennifer replied, looking back up at her cousin who was looking at her quizzically. As she looked and focused on Adelaide, it was as if everything came back into focus; even the throbbing seemed to lessen, if only slightly. "Oh!" Jennifer shook her head, "I, uh, I don't remember."

Adelaide looked at her for a moment longer before shrugging and disappearing back behind the beaded curtain, "It probably wasn't important."

Jennifer nodded and turned back towards the front of the store, mumbling, "It probably wasn't important."

Little John followed closely behind her as she walked. She climbed back on to her stool behind the counter, adjusting her gray cardigan around her cream tunic with blue peach blossoms on it. The throbbing behind her eyes had slowly receded, and she tried to pick her book back up, only to have Little John thrust his head into her lap, looking up at her expectantly.

She rolled her eyes at him, "What? What do you need, Little Thing?"

His tail was wagging lazily, threatening to knock down the stacks of books behind her as well as send the papers on the shelves inside the counter flying, and he adjusted his head so that he was the slightest bit closer to her. She only grinned at him and began to vigorously scratch his head, telling him, "Oh you're a _spoiled_ little thing, aren't you?"

She remembered when Adelaide had suggested getting a puppy shortly after her mom died. She remembered she had been initially resistant to the idea, asking something along the lines of, "What am I going to do with a puppy?"

But when she had seen Little John, the runt of the litter, come ambling up to her on paws that were too big for his little frame, she'd fallen in love. She'd named him "Little John" after the friend of Robin Hood, as a way of paying tribute to the movie her adoptive parents had seen together on their first date; also because she found naming this behemoth of a dog "little" hilarious. Before he'd grown too much, she'd taken to calling him, "Little Thing"; another tribute to her parents, though more specifically to how her mother had always told her that life was about appreciating the little things.

He was a good boy, always seemed to be in-tuned with what she was feeling and always protective of her, but, try as she might, she couldn't really remember _how_ she'd trained him. In fact, what she _did_ remember of that time seemed more like it had been something she experienced second hand. Like showing a picture book to a child, "See? This happened, and then this. Remember this. Don't worry about anything else, there is _only_ this."

Jennifer hadn't mentioned this lapse in her memory to Adelaide yet; she knew how much Adelaide had worried about her since the accident.

Little John turned his head and licked her hand, pulling her out of her thoughts and earning a laughing groan out of Jennifer, "Ew! Aw, buddy, that's _gross_!"

Little John's tail only wagged harder as she glared at him and wiped her now sufficiently slobbery hand on her olive-green pants.

"That's a good way to ruin those pants," Adelaide commented, walking passed her through the beaded curtain that led into the kitchenette. She'd changed into a pair of dark skinny jeans and a ratty band t-shirt, showing off her numerous tattoos, and the long hair on the left side of her head had been pulled back into a ponytail, hanging over the freshly shaved back of her head.

Jennifer shrugged and called after her, "Eh, I'll need to change before I leave anyway. Holly somehow got us into that new Italian place five blocks over that everyone's been talking about."

"Girl's got skills." Came the impressed reply.

Jennifer chuckled as she climbed off her stool, snapping her fingers and gesturing in front of her to direct Little John, "And she knows it too."

Little John obediently, though reluctantly, backed away from Jennifer as she began to walk to the back of the store, towards where her room was. He followed behind her briefly before heading back to the couch that he had previously vacated. Her room was a rather small space, all things considered, and had been repurposed from an office (though, with Adelaide "office" was just another word for "storage"), but was a peaceful forest green color and luckily had enough room for her mattress and a least some room for walking around it. It was also one of the only rooms in the space owned by Adelaide that still had a real door to it and not just a beaded curtain. Once inside, she made quick work of changing, tossing her clothes onto her bed and slipping into a pair of dark tights with transparent flowers on the calves and a gray dress with an embroidered white floral overlay. She put in her yellow flower earrings, and tried to adjust her curls. She considered her reflection as she fixed her makeup.

Her hair had gotten much longer than she last remembered it being. When was the last time she'd had it cut? Was it before the sailing accident? Had time just gotten away from her? After all, there isn't much time to really worry about hair length when you're recovering from a head-wound and partial drowning.

But, then again, no, she thought, tilting her head as the thought occurred to her. That didn't feel right. She almost felt like she'd decided to grow it out because of what someone had said. Someone had told her that they liked the curl her hair got at this length, that they liked running their fingers through it. She felt as if she had liked that idea, like she had loved the idea of their fingers curling with the curl of her hair.

Who had said that? A figure tried to clarify itself in her mind, but when she tried to focus on it, the throb from earlier by the stairs came back, and when she pushed on it, it was as if the throb pushed back.

Water. That was all she could get out of the foggy image. That the figure was by water. Which is a helpful thing to have pop up, living in a city built on a harbor on the East Coast.

She shook her head, sighing, as she finished her makeup and attempted to fluff her hair with her fingers, "It probably isn't important."

Even as she said it, she wasn't sure if she believed it.

She grabbed a black blazer, to wear as she walked to the restaurant, from her small closet in the corner, along with her heeled black suede ankle boots from the floor of the same closet and headed back out to the main floor of the store, closing the door behind her. Little John jumped off his couch and ambled along behind her. Jennifer climbed back onto the stool behind the counter as Little John sat next to her. She began putting her boots on as she called out to Adelaide, "Hey, have you heard anything else from the storage unit people? I really miss having my quilt and my dad's sweater."

"I'll get on the phone with them tonight, maybe make a few workers cry, and see if that gets us any results." Came the reply from the kitchenette over the whistle of a teakettle. As the whistle died out, Adelaide continued, "I can't believe they misplaced the key for a storage unit! Once we get your things back, we should _definitely_ look into moving your stuff to a new company."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "I'd rather move my stuff into my _own_ place."

"Jennifer," it was half a warning and half exasperated, "until the doctors say that you are _okay_ to be alone—,"

The bells on the storefront door jingled, cutting Adelaide off, as a little black haired six year old came bounding through the door, followed by a tired looking black man in a gray hoodie and jeans. The little girl beamed at Jennifer, green eyes sparkling, "Hi Auntie Jen!"

Jennifer grinned back, hopping off of her stool. Little John stayed by the stool obediently as Jennifer walked around the counter, arms spread wide, and exclaimed, "There's my favorite six year old!"

Brielle grinned as she leapt into Jennifer's arms. Jennifer hugged her and looked at the man standing nervously at the door, "Hi, Joshua!"

Joshua smiled, "Hi, Ms. Mason."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, standing but still holding Brielle's hand, "Joshua, I think we've known each other a little too long for you to be calling me 'Ms. Mason.' Heard anything from your sister today?"

Joshua rubbed his buzzed head, "Not yet today. You look nice though; you two're going out to dinner, right? At that new place on Hanover?"

Jennifer nodded, "That's right. I'll make sure to give Holly a good lecture for not talking to her little brother today."

Joshua chuckled and shook his head.

Jennifer looked down at Brielle, "What do we say to Mr. Joshua?"

Brielle beamed up at Joshua, "Thank you for walking me home, Mr. Joshua!"

Joshua smiled back, "You be good for your Aunt and Momma, now."

Brielle nodded back, "I will!"

Joshua smiled at Brielle and then nervously smiled at Jennifer, "Ms. Mason."

Jennifer smiled back, rolling her eyes at him, and with that, Joshua left, heading back to his own store down the street.

When the door jingled closed, Jennifer picked Brielle up and spun her around, singing loudly and off key, "_I believe I can fly!_"

From the kitchenette, they heard an equally off key, "_I believe I can touch the sky!_"

Brielle squealed with laughter, as Jennifer slowed her spinning and set Brielle back on the floor, and carefully leaned against the counter as a dizzy spell came over her.

Brielle looked up at her, her little eyes bright with concern, "You okay, Auntie?"

Jennifer just tried to nod, still bracing herself on the counter. In the back of her mind, she could just barely hear another voice, one that was startling familiar, and the figure she'd tried to clarify in her mind earlier came back up, and it was if some of the fog around it had lessened, but the image was still unclear. A pier. The figure was standing on a pier.

_"Hey. You okay?"_

A hand pressed against her shoulder, she turned to look and saw Adelaide, her own green eyes giving her the same concerned look that Brielle had given her, "Jennifer, are you okay?"

"I just…need a second," Jennifer tried to smile

Adelaide shook her head, "You _know_ what the doctors said about exerting yourself. Ever since that sailing accident—,"

"Adelaide." Jennifer cut her off, her eyes flashing her a warning, "I'm _fine_. I just need a second."

Adelaide held her hands up, backing away slightly, "Alright. Alright. Excuse me for being concerned."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, just as her phone buzzed on the counter. She pulled it out and grinned at the screen before pointing at Adelaide, "Don't worry about me so much, I'm fine. Now. I'm going to go have dinner with my _other_ worry-wart warden—,"

"Bet you can't say that three times fast," Adelaide interrupted, making a face at Brielle.

"Worry-wart warden, worry-wort—," Brielle struggled to say as Jennifer grabbed her purse and keys from the shelf under the counter. She turned to Little John who sniffed at her face, tail thumbing on the floor, she scratched his chest as Brielle continued to try to say "worry-wart warden" and said to him, "You be a good boy. When I get back, we'll go for a nice long walk."

Little John's tail thumbed harder against the floor.

She grinned at him before standing back up, slipping into her black blazer and then hitching her purse over her shoulder as she kissed Adelaide and then Brielle on the cheek, "Be safe and have fun you two! I'll see you tonight!"

"Bye Auntie Jen!" Brielle called as the doors jingled closed.

* * *

><p>Adelaide scooped Brielle into a hug, "Hello sweetness."<p>

Brielle kissed her mom's cheek, "Hi Momma!"

Adelaide held up her left wrist where the name "Desmond" was tattooed in scrawling script, and Brielle kissed the tattoo, "Hi Daddy!"

Adelaide nuzzled her face against Brielle's, "How was your day?"

"I bit a boy who was being mean to me!" Brielle beamed at her as she squished Adelaide's face in her hands.

"Oh, _that's_ gonna be a fun phone call." Adelaide laughed as she carried Brielle and her backpack to the back of the store towards the stairs to the loft, "Did he deserve it?"

"He called me stupid and messed up the picture I was doing." Brielle said matter-of-factly. Little John tentatively scratched at the door to Jennifer's room. Adelaide opened it and then, as Little John leapt onto the bed happily, closed it.

"Did you break the skin?" Adelaide asked as she climbed the stairs. Once in their loft, she dropped her daughter on to the couch in the middle of their small living room.

Brielle shook her head as she shifted on the couch for Adelaide to sit down, "No, but he's gonna have a bruise for a while."

Adelaide kissed her head, "Remember, we don't bite…"

"Unless they deserve it." Brielle finished.

Adelaide's cell phone started buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out and grimaced at her phone. She turned back to Brielle, "That's right. Now, you go start on your homework, and then you and I will go get ice cream, how's that sound?"

Brielle grinned and leapt from the couch, "Oh boy!"

Adelaide just grinned as Brielle ran into her room to start in on her homework. She looked back at the phone, before sighing and hitting the "accept" button, "Yes?"

"How's she doing?" the voice on the other end asked.

Adelaide shrugged, "Well enough. We…we had at least two episodes earlier, though."

"What happened." The voice demanded, not even really bothering to make it sound like a question.  
>"She was talking about business cards and hot chocolate when the first one happened, and then again when she was playing with Brielle." Adelaide answered, glancing back at Brielle's door, "And while I'd rather <em>not<em> be in the position of 'narc,' those _were_ the only two that I _actually_ witnessed."

"I assume you handled the situation." The voice said coldly.

Adelaide became agitated, "If you mean I did your dirty work _for_ you, and told an innocent woman that her attempts at remembering the past year of her life and the subsequent pain that that causes her is the result of a—," she raised her left hand and mimed air quotes for her own benefit, "—'boating accident;' then you're right; I handled the situation. But this is the _last_ time. This is _not_ my job."

"You're _job_ is to maintain balance, just as it was your father's. You are _meant_ to protect—,"

"No." Adelaide snapped, cutting off the voice, "You misunderstand my position. _I_ am the owner of a bookstore. Nothing more. Now, as a _decent_ human being, I have an obligation to help the people that are under my roof but I will help them how _I_ see fit. You should be _aware_ that your first mistake was giving me someone that I could _care_ about. You would do well to remember that the next time you speak to me or try to tell me what my _job_ is."

With that, Adelaide ended the call, tossing the phone on to the couch cushion next to her.

* * *

><p>Duke had debated for the better part of the day whether to sail or drive to Boston for what he needed to do.<p>

Well, _need_ was a complicated term.

What he _wanted_ was to find the person who had stolen her identity and make them pay for it.

Creatively.

Either way, he had decided on sailing down to Boston; at least then he'd be able to just sail off to that "Somewhere Sunny."

He'd paid to dock at a marina near the North End of Boston where most of the purchases on the credit cards had been made. He'd brought his truck with him, and drove it off the Rouge to the pier. He didn't have a plan yet and he certainly didn't expect the guilty party to be wearing a sign that said "WANTED: FIST TO THE FACE FOR STEALING AN INNOCENT DEAD WOMAN'S CREDIT CARD INFORMATION", but he figured he could at least drive down to the area the purchases had been made and see if anyone matched up with detective's report that Dwight had given him.

As evening began to fall, Duke opted to park his car in one of the public parking structures near Hanover street, and decided to walk around to try to find a place to eat.

It'd been awhile since he was last in Boston. At least this time he hadn't been thrown into the seal tank at the aquarium.

Under different circumstances, the thought might have made him chuckle. But under _these_ circumstances, he had to fight the urge to punch anyone who got too close to him. Duke buried his hands further into his jean jacket and hunched his shoulders slightly against the cool breeze that was wondering through the streets.

It'd been a long time since he'd been in a city of substantial size for anything that wasn't Trouble related, and as he walked, he tried to look at the people around him. He used to like making up stories about the people he saw on the streets, wondering about where they came from, where they were going, what secrets they had hidden away; in a town like Haven, you already knew those things, so what was the point in speculating?

Take the stout man who was bustling passed him, looking agitated. In his head, Duke decided that the little man had had the _worst_ day at the office, what with Jerry in accounting not _only_ drinking the last of the coffee before he even got there, but then Jerry had the _audacity_ to eat his lunch and claimed that it'd been a mistake. Compacted with his impotency issues and the fact that he hadn't actually touched his wife in over a year, though she seemed rather consistently satisfied, and the stout angry man's rage was clearly reaching a head.

The stout man continued to angrily fast walk down the street and rudely bumped into a woman standing outside the Italian restaurant that was just ahead of him.

"Hey, watch it pal!" she yelled after him.

Duke froze in his tracks. He knew that voice. He knew that voice as well as he knew his own. He stared as the woman shook her dark brown curls; the pale skin of her face was lightly flushed from yelling at the stout man. She turned back to her phone, smiling at the screen, and Duke almost fell to his knees in relief and joy.

Oh god.

He knew that _smile_.

_Jennifer_.

He hadn't _thought_ her name, let alone spoken it, since he…since he let her go, and yet as he stood there, looking at a woman who couldn't be anyone _but_ her, he found that that was the only thing that he _could_ think or say.

"Jennifer?" he whispered, starting to walk towards her. She was looking around, like she was trying to find someone. Part of him, the part that hoped every time the Rouge creaked it was her coming home, hoped that it was for him.

"Jennifer!" he called, breaking out in a run towards her. He was calling her name as desperately as he had when he'd found the _Herald's_ office ransacked and her missing. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Though, truly, it felt like _two_ lifetimes ago.

She looked at the man who was yelling her name like he'd been looking for her for years. He embraced her; hugging her so tightly she struggled momentarily to breathe. She didn't know what to do or how to respond, but she figured it was best to let the man hug her and then try to talk to him. She didn't feel threatened; he was too concerned, too…the more she tried to quantify it, the harder it became to know _why_ it was that she didn't feel threatened when everything told her that she should be.

He broke the embrace, and touched her neck gently. There were tears in his eyes as he looked at her, studying her face, but he was smiling.

"You're okay." He said, his voice wavering, "You're okay."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." she answered, shifting slightly.

Confusion finally broke through Duke's unbridled joy as he registered the problem with what was happening, "How are you okay? How long have you been here? No—wait, how are you _alive_? Why didn't—," he brought his other hand up to cup her face and leaned down to look at her, thumbs stroking her cheek bones, "Short Stack, why didn't you come _home_?"

She fidgeted nervously under the touch and gaze of this strange, though admittedly not unattractive, man and carefully placed her hand over his wrist, pushing it away from her face. Something small and quiet that she recognized as the same thing that had popped up earlier today to tell her about the water and the pier whispered in her mind, protesting how she pushed his hands away. She smiled nervously at him, even as the dull throb behind her eyes began again, "Okay, easy there buddy. What's your name? Is there someone I can call for you?"

Duke clung to his confusion even as his heart started to break at her pushing his hands away, "What? Jennifer, you _know_ who I am. It's me. It's _Duke_; Duke Crocker. And you're Jennifer Mason. Short Stack, _please_…"

He moved to touch her again, but she moved back. He held his hands up, demonstrating that he wouldn't move to touch her again even though every part of him wanted to pick her up and carry her back to the Rouge and not let her go until they were in that "Somewhere Sunny" and probably not even then. He let his hands fall to his sides briefly before sticking them back in his jacket pockets to remove the temptation.

"Okay. Duke." She smiled at him. Duke wanted to stop everything and only hear her say that; just his name, over and over again to make up for all the times these last few months that he was sure that he'd never hear her say it again. "That's a nice name. I'd introduce myself but you seem to already know me so—,"

"What happened? Why are you acting like…like you don't know me?" Duke asked, feeling his heart caving in. There was only one reason he could think of for why Jennifer would be alive and not come back to him, and it was something he didn't want to consider.

Jennifer shook her head, "Buddy, I'm _really_ sorry, but I think you've got me _very_ confused with another Jennifer Mason. I've never seen you before in my life."


	2. Chapter 2

Jennifer shook her head, "Buddy, I'm _really_ sorry, but I think you have me _very_ confused with another Jennifer Mason. I've never seen you before in my life."

Duke felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.

Or, more accurately, he felt as if someone had taken a baseball bat and swung it straight into his torso.

"Wha—?" was all he managed to get out before a familiar, albeit it markedly un-digitized, voice interrupted.  
>"Oh my God! Duke? Duke <em>Crocker?<em>" Jennifer turned to see Holly walking briskly towards them. She was wearing a gorgeous floor length raspberry red dress that had a lace bodice with crisscrossing bands. Her head wrap was a deep red as well, detailed with gold patterns that accented the thick gold necklace she'd chosen that hung close to her neck. In her red heels, she was easily Duke's height and she used that to wrap her arms around his shoulders in a hug.

"Play along and do _exactly_ as I say." Holly whispered fiercely to him. Duke, still reeling from seeing Jennifer and then being told that she didn't remember him, only nodded as she pulled away, beaming at him.

"You know him?" Jennifer asked, a bit skeptical but clearly relieved that someone here seemed to have answers.

"Why, of course! Surely I told you about him," Holly replied, voice light as she turned her smile to Jennifer. Jennifer relaxed under her friend's gaze and shifted to stand the slightest bit closer to her, exactly as she'd done with Duke in Haven when she'd felt threatened or nervous. He felt a new part of him break; she wasn't supposed to move away from _him_ like that.

Holly turned back to Duke, "Jennifer Mason; meet Duke Crocker. He's an old friend from Grad school."

Duke tried to smile at Jennifer who nervously smiled back, nodding to him.

Holly lightly batted at his arm, forcing him to look back at Holly, "You son of a bitch, why didn't you _tell_ me you were in Boston?"

"Uh…poor planning, I guess." He said, still trying to smile and act as if he understood what was happening. He kept thinking to himself, _don't stare at her, don't stare at her, you'll only freak her out, Jesus but she's right_ there. _She hasn't changed at all. Don't_ stare _at her._

"You got that right," Holly laughed as she turned back to Jennifer, "Jen, honey, why don't you go on in and get to our table? It should be under my name."

Jennifer nodded and glanced nervously back at Duke, "Alright. What about you?"

Holly just grinned, "I just need a moment with Mr. Crocker, here. See if we can't figure out another, more _appropriate_, time to meet up."

Jennifer smiled sheepishly as she turned back to Duke, "It was, uh, it was nice to meet you, Duke."

Duke could only manage half of a wave as she walked into the bustling restaurant. He watched after her, every part of him telling him to follow her, until Holly snapped her fingers in front of his face, "Eyes front, Sailor."

Duke turned his confusion and, unfortunately, his agitation at Holly, "Holly, what. The _fuck_ is going on."

"Watch your tone." She snapped back, "Stand up straight, smile at me, act like we're having a friendly conversation." She instructed, her face grave, and her own agitation coming through.

"_What?_" Duke snapped.

Holly narrowed her gaze at him, "Jennifer _notices_ things. Wherever the table is in that restaurant she's probably positioned herself so she can look out the windows at our conversation. So _smile_, and act like we're having a normal conversation."

Duke rolled his shoulder, and tried to give Holly a smile. Holly sighed, "That'll have to do. Look, I can't say much right now since she's waiting for me. I'm staying at the Fairmont on Battery Wharf."

Duke nodded, committing the name of the hotel to memory, as Holly continued, "I will be at the bar there at ten tonight. Meet me there, and I'll tell you what I know so far."

Duke's jaw clenched in response, and he nodded tensely.

She studied him for a moment, and her agitation ebbed. She placed a tentative, though sympathetic, hand on his arm, "It's just for a few more hours, Sailor, and then you'll have all the answers you can handle and that I can give you. Until then, maybe go clean yourself up. You look like you haven't sleep in months; you look like _hell._"

"That's big talk coming from an insomniac." Duke commented, joking half-heartedly. He wanted to look through the windows behind Holly into the restaurant and find Jennifer, just to make sure she was still there, but he thought better of it, keeping his attention on Holly. If Jennifer _was_ watching, he didn't want to make her anymore nervous around him than he already, and rather stupidly, had.

She batted his arm lightly, "Hey, I'm a _professional_ insomniac. I know how to keep up appearances."

Duke smirked, lightly pushing her hand away, "Easy there, Sunshine. We're supposed to be friends."

Holly chuckled, "There he is. There's the Duke I've seen on Skype. There's the Duke Jennifer loves."

Duke let out a heartbroken bark of a laugh before rubbing at his lips and chin, "Yeah."

"Alright." She rolled her shoulders, and stood up straight. "Now give me a hug." Holly prompted, holding her arms open.

"What?" Duke asked, looking at her like she'd grown a third limb.

"We're old friends from Grad school, remember?" She grinned at him, "You gotta sell it. Hug me." Holly moved her fingers, prompting him to hug her.

He did, carefully. When he pulled away, she repeated, "Remember; ten o'clock at the Fairmount."

Duke nodded as she headed into the restaurant. She paused at the door and turned back to him, "And _try_ to look like a human being."

He gave her a confused look as she disappeared among the other waiting patrons. He looked around himself for a moment, half expecting the world to have changed in some way. But it was just like it had been when he thought Jennifer was dead, which was just like it was when she'd been with him. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his bearings, before he decided to walk back to his truck. He tired to prioritize what he needed to do in the hours before he met back up with Holly, when he caught his reflection in a storefront window, causing him to stop in his tracks and really _look_ at himself.

Holly was right; he looked like hell.

His hair—what he hadn't chopped off in the days following Jennifer's…was "death" even applicable anymore?—was a mussed and unkempt mess, his clothing were rumbled, and his eyes head dark circles and bags under them.

If he and Jennifer had run into this version of him back in Haven, and he'd done what he'd done tonight, Duke would have sent him to the Drunk tank with one hell of shiner.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look more presentable, and sighed.

A shower was decidedly in order. His stomach growled loudly.

When was the last time he'd eaten?

Hell, when was the last time he'd _wanted_ to eat?

He finalized his plan of food, shower, most likely nervous pacing until ten o'clock rolled around, and then going to see Holly. He turned and headed back down the street.

* * *

><p>Jennifer watched through the window from the table the hostess had led her to as Holly talked to Duke. The restaurant itself was fairly dim, making the brightest source of light the wide window that faced the street, which made the pedestrians walking passed seem like they were in a movie. She watched Holly carefully. Holly's back was to her, but she had known Holly long enough to be able to read her back as easily as if she were seeing her face. Holly seemed comfortable enough while she was talking to this "Grad school friend," but there was an anxiety in the set of her shoulders that made Jennifer all the more suspicious. Holly was controlling the conversation, but Jennifer only needed to know Holly as a person to know that. She turned her gaze to Duke. He was watching Holly intently, trying to smile at her and nodding along with what she was saying. He looked as if he hadn't slept, or, at the very least, hadn't slept <em>well<em>, in some time. She looked him up and down, taking in the rumpled clothes, the dark circles under his eyes, the slightly hollow cheeks, and recognized the signs.

He looked like a man who'd been in a state of mourning for a very long time.

He cared deeply about whoever it was he'd lost.

He was smirking at Holly now, who had lightly hit him on the arm with the tension gone from her shoulders, and it changed his whole demeanor. His eyes, though tired, were kind, and, though he'd scared her initially, he seemed to have a gentleness about him that made him more approachable, though the fact that he was undeniably attractive probably didn't help with that approachability.

His hair could be longer though.

The thought seemed odd to her. She'd never been really into men with long hair, and it was none of her business how he looked, yet she couldn't help thinking that his hair should be longer.

_Should be._

Before Jennifer could follow _that_ thought any further, and before the throb that was already threatening to start back up again could, her phone buzzed. She hazarded a look at it to see that it was a message from Adelaide. She opened it, and was greeted by a picture of Adelaide and Brielle with ice cream on their noses and the caption, "Greetings from the messiest worry-wart wardens a girl could ask for!"

Jennifer grinned at her phone as Holly came walking up. She slid into the seat across from her, grinning broadly at Jennifer, and placed her wallet on the table. She turned and placed her jean jacket on the back of her chair as she spoke, "Sorry about that! I had no idea _Duke_ would be in town."

Jennifer turned her smile to Holly, as she put her phone back into her purse, "You said he was a friend from Grad school?"  
>Holly nodded, taking a drink of water, "Yeah. Well, technically. I <em>met<em> him in Grad school, but he's been working as a transporter for most of his adult life."

Jennifer gave her a confused look, "Transporter?"

Holly nodded again, grabbing the menu from the table, "Yeah, he's got his own ship and he helps to transport certain items for a select clientele."

Jennifer arched an eyebrow at her, "Sounds reputable."

Holly just smirked at her over the menu, "I find the less I ask about it, the better."

There was a pause as Jennifer took a drink of her water. She set her glass down and studied it for a moment before asking, "Did he, uh, did he tell you what happened?"

Holly's brow furrowed as she went back to read over the menu, "What happened?"

"I was standing there, waiting for you, and he just came up and…and _hugged_ me." Holly paused in her reading but didn't look up at her as she continued, "He…he kept saying, you know, 'you're okay' and then he started asking me how I was…how I was _alive._" Jennifer recounted, shifting nervously.

Holly shrugged, still not looking away from the menu, "Oh, I must have told him about your accident the last time we talked and how worried we were about you. I wouldn't worry too much about that."

Jennifer shook her head, "Holly, he…he called me 'Short Stack.' It…it was like he _knew_ me, Holly."

Holly finally looked at her, her face going from surprised to concerned, and she reached her hand across the table to grab Jennifer's, "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry, I guess I talk about you a lot to other people. I didn't mean…"

She felt her brow furrow as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was crying. She shook her head, "He asked me why I didn't come home." Jennifer said, pulling her hand back and lightly wiping at her cheeks, "Why…?"

Why was she crying? The small voice that had protested her removing his hands from her seemed to be the cause of it. It was heartbroken. But that didn't make sense. What did she have to be heartbroken _about?_

Holly shook her head, "I'm sorry about that. Duke's been…he's been going through a rough patch, and I guess I've talked about you enough that he thought he…He didn't mean anything by it. I'll talk to him, I'm so sorry."

Jennifer shook her head now, taking a deep breath, "No, he…_he_ didn't upset me. I mean, he freaked me out, sure, but any guy who decided to randomly hug me would do that. But I didn't…I didn't _feel_ threatened by him? At all, actually."

Jennifer took a careful breath as she reached for her glass to take a drink of water, "It was…it was what he said. Or I guess _how_ he said it. He…he was so…"

The waitress came and asked for their orders. They gave them, only really half listening to her, before a pause settled on them. Jennifer chewed her lip, thinking about the encounter with Duke.

_In love._

That's what she had wanted to say before the waitress came. That's why the small voice was so upset.

He had touched, he had spoken, and he had even _looked_ at her, like he was so in _love_ with her.

Something about that realization caused the throb to come back behind her eyes, stronger than it had ever been before, quieting the small voice before it could say more. She squeezed her eyes closed and touched her forehead, trying to make it stop.

Holly leaned across the table to look at Jennifer and said carefully, "Hey. It's okay. How about you tell me what you've been up to."

Jennifer tried to smile reassuringly back at Holly, the throb lessening as she focused on something else, "Oh, you know, same ol' same ol'. Not much happens in Adelaide's bookstore. And she certainly hasn't really let me _do_ anything outside of work at the bookstore since the accident."

"Well you _know_ how scared she was at the time." Holly pointed out, unrolling her silverware from her napkin and placing it on her lap, "The doctors said it was a miracle you didn't _die._"

Jennifer sighed, "I know that, just like I know that she almost sued my friend from _The Globe_ whose boat I had been on when the boom knocked me out and into the water."

Holly smirked as their waitress placed their food in front of them, "If you recall, I made my fair share of threats about that too. I nearly flew back out here and killed the guy."

Jennifer giggled despite herself, "Yeah, you did!"

She let out a few more chuckles, taking a bite out of her food, before continuing, "But, uh, ever since the doctors demanded that I—," she raised her hands to mime quotation marks, "—'take it easy,' and ever since my technical retirement from _The Globe_, I've been spending my days waiting for the doctors to tell me that I'm okay so that Adelaide will _finally_ concede to letting me get my own place again. Don't get me wrong, I love Adelaide, and I'm so glad I've gotten to spend the last year with her and Brielle, but I feel like I'm _stuck_, just waiting to join the rest of the world again."

Holly nodded as she took a bite of her food, "I understand that. But how _have_ you been feeling? Any new symptoms?"

Jennifer shrugged, momentarily pushing her food around on her plate, "Well enough."

Holly studied her, clearly knowing that Jennifer wasn't telling her the whole story, and if she had to guess, it had something to do with the way she'd rubbed her forehead a moment ago. But, rather than point out Jennifer's lie just yet, Holly decided to change the subject, "How _is_ Adelaide? I feel like I haven't seen her since your mom's funeral."

Jennifer grinned, enthusiastically digging back into her food, "She's doing good! Brielle is just growing like a _weed_ and looks more like Adelaide everyday. She calls me 'Auntie' because trying to explain first and second cousins is enough to give Adelaide and me a headache, but it's the _cutest_ thing ever. Oh! _And_ she was Student of the Month in her kindergarten class last month."

Holly smiled back, "Aren't you just the proudest 'auntie' on the East Coast?"

Jennifer's grin broadened, "Easily."

Holly shook her head as she finished the last bite of her food, "Do they have enough room for you in that store? I don't remember it being particularly large."

Jennifer shrugged, "It isn't. They have a room that they repurposed for me, but with me _and_ Little John in there, it gets a little cramped."

"Oh that big love bug, how's he doing? I can't imagine all that moving between places has been easy on him." Holly asked, leaning back in her seat, her meal consumed.

"He seems alright." Jennifer answered, doing the same, "I think the fact that we're in a space that he's familiar with has helped. You know that he used to stay with Adelaide when I would travel."

Holly nodded, "That's right."

Jennifer sighed contentedly, pleasantly full, before turning the conversation to Holly, "So what about you? How's Andre doing?"

Holly smiled softly as she looked at her wedding ring, spinning it with her thumb, "He's doing well. He's in Zurich right now for a conference, and then he's got to do some more stuff for the company in Europe for the rest of the month." She grinned at Jennifer, eyes sparkling, "So…I was _thinking_…if you wouldn't mind spending some time with an _old friend_…"

Jennifer nearly leapt out of her chair, exclaiming, "Are you _kidding_ me? Of _course_!"

Jennifer stood and walked around to the other side of the table, hugging Holly tightly, "Oh yay!" She broke the hug but held Holly's hands, looking at her with concern, "But a month's a really long time for you and Andre to be a part. Is everything okay?"

Holly sighed and squeezed Jennifer's hands, "Well, yes and no."

Jennifer sat back in her seat and leaned on the table as Holly continued, "Andre _really_ wants kids and I do too, of course, but…" She paused, biting her lip, "I'm scared that I won't be a good mom or that something bad is going to happen during the pregnancy because we waited so long, and Andre's trying to understand that, he is, but every time I try to explain it to him I can just _feel_ his…I don't know, his disengagement? He just doesn't understand and just, _god_, Jen, I am _so scared_."

Jennifer placed her hand on the table, "Holly. Holl, _look_ at me."

Holly took her hand and looked at Jennifer, tears threatening to fall from her eyes, "Holly, you would make an _amazing_ mom. Remember how freaked out Adelaide was when she found out she was pregnant?"

Holly let out a strained laugh, "Oh, she was _terrified_."

Jennifer grinned back, "That's right. But now, she is _the_ best mom that that, or really any other, little girl could ask for."

"But Jennifer, she and Desmond were so much _younger_ than we are now when they started." Holly pointed out, her voice breaking slightly, "And they say that by age thirty—,"

Jennifer just smiled, "Well, not that I'm _biased_ or anything, but there's always adoption."

Holly's eyes lit up, "I could have my own little Jennifer Mason?"

Jennifer giggled, "Sadly, I think there's only one."

Holly took a calming breath and squeezed her fingers, "Thank you, Jen."

Jennifer squeezed back, "You're welcome."

They paused in their conversation, letting each other go, and taking drinks from their glasses, when Holly asked, "So. Are you going to tell me what that forehead rub earlier was about?"

Jennifer tried to hide her nervousness with an incredulous look, "What forehead rub?"

Holly rolled her eyes, "Jennifer Mason, don't you even _try_. I'm the one who finally taught you how to lie, remember?"

"A skill my mom never really forgave you for." Jennifer quipped, trying to distract Holly.

Holly only crossed her arms at her, waiting.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Fine! _Fine_, just…just _don't_ freak out about it, okay?"

"I'll make no such promise."

Jennifer sighed before explaining, "I don't think my memory's quite…quite right."

Holly gave her a confused look, "What do you mean?"

Jennifer shifted in her chair, "It's kind of hard to explain unless it's happening to you. Um. These last few days, I'll be talking or doing something and I'll…I'll feel like a memory is about to come up, but instead of just happening, I'll get this…this _pain_ right behind my eyes. Just this, usually dull, _throb_."

Holly considered this information before asking, "What…when does it happen?"

"It happened the most today. The first time it happened, I was jokingly talking about what I had printed on my business cards, and then after that I was doing my makeup to get ready for dinner, and I started thinking about how long my hair had gotten and I got this…this _feeling_ like I had decided to grow it out because of what someone had said but when I tried to remember _who_ had said it, when I pushed on my memory, it was like the throb behind my eyes _pushed_ back. The only thing I got from it that time was a figure that was near water."

Holly smirked nervously, "Sounds helpful."

Jennifer chuckled, "That's kind of how I felt about it."

"Anything else?" Holly pushed, leaning forward and trying to keep her voice low.  
>"Well when I was playing with Brielle, I had a dizzy spell and the figure came back, only this time not only did I learn that the figure was standing on a pier—,"<p>

"Again, super helpful," Holly interjected.

Jennifer smiled and nodded before continuing, "—_and_ I heard, very faintly, someone say, 'Hey. You okay?'"

"Did you recognize the voice?" Holly asked eagerly.

Jennifer shook her head, "Not…not exactly."

Holly furrowed her brow at her and Jennifer tried to clarify, "It's weird; I didn't recognize the voice, but at the same time I…I _knew_ it. It was…it was weird."

Jennifer paused, chewing on her lip for a moment as she considered the next part of her story. Holly watched her patiently, waiting for her to gather her words.

"Earlier…with, uh, with Duke," Jennifer began again, tone cautious, "He, uh, he had touched my neck, even cupped my face for a second, and when I pushed his hands away, a small part of me protested, which only made the throb come back. It went away when you came, though."

Holly tried to smile, though her concern was etched into her features, "I've been known to have that effect on people."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, smirking despite herself, and continued, "Now the forehead rub _you_ witnessed was because the throb was…was particularly strong."

Holly arched an eyebrow at her, "Any reason why?"

"Earlier, when I was trying to tell you about how your friend Duke had talked to me, I was…I was trying to tell you that he looked at me like he was in _love _with me. And the small part of me that protested when I pushed his hands away? Before it could go beyond that realization, it felt like someone put a clamp on my head and _twisted_."

Once she'd finished, she studied Holly carefully who seemed to be momentarily lost in her thoughts. Jennifer shifted in her seat, an uneasy feeling falling over her.

"What does…? What does it mean?" Jennifer asked, her stomach knotting.

* * *

><p>The door to the bookstore jingled opened. Adelaide, who had her back to the door as she was doing some re-shelving, yelled over her shoulder, "Read the sign, pal, we are very much closed."<p>

"Delivery." Was the only reply.

Adelaide froze momentarily before setting the remaining books in her hands on the shelf that was exposed in front of her. She turned and looked at Brielle who was reading on the couch, paying no mind to the man by the door.

"Sweetness?" She said calmly, pointedly not looking at the man standing by her store entrance and keeping her gaze fixated on her daughter.

Brielle looked up at her mom, keeping her own gaze on her, "Yes, Momma?"

Adelaide smiled weakly, "Why don't you go brush your teeth? And then can you check on the pineapples Momma has upstairs before you go to bed?"

Brielle stood up from the couch, "Should I say good night to Daddy?"

Adelaide smiled at her, "Yeah, Sweetness, make sure to say good night to Daddy."

Brielle walked around the counter and hugged her legged, "Love you, Momma."

For the first time since the door opened, Adelaide shot a glare at the man at the door before leaning down and kissing her daughter's head, "More than you know, Sweetness."

With that, Brielle turned and disappeared into the back of the shop.

"She's cute." The man said, shifting his hold on the box and the bag he had with him.

Adelaide shot him a glare so full of malice that he could have sworn she'd slapped him across the face.

"Don't you fucking _ever_ come into my shop again when my daughter is here. And don't you fucking _dare_ look at her if she is here, do you understand me." Her tone was so cold and full of hardly contained rage that the questions could've only been heard as statements.

"Do you really think you're in a position to be making threats, Book Keeper?" The man asked, smirking arrogantly at her.

"You're on my turf here, Stretch. As far as I'm concerned, you should be kissing my goddamned _boots_ for not denying you access." She grinned back, though the grin could probably be more accurately described as a baring of teeth.

They stared at each other, both trying to size each other up, before the man broke, looking at the items in his hands before walking to the counter and setting them there. She smiled, reveling in the small victory.

"What's this?" Adelaide asked, peering through the box. It looked to contain mostly junk, though there was a battered copy of _Unstake My Heart_, a trashy vampire novel that had been at the top of her sales a few years ago. She picked it up and flipped through it.

"Your charge's missing possessions." Stretch answered simply.

"I thought they were back in Maine, with what's-his-name, and that your bosses weren't going to—," Adelaide began to ask, setting the book back on the counter.

"The circumstances have changed." Stretch answered curtly, agitation starting to bubble up.

Adelaide raised her eyebrows, smirking despite herself, "So I take it she's not as well hidden as you all thought she was."

Stretch didn't answer, only narrowed his gaze at her.

"And to deliver them personally like this…" Adelaide tsked her tongue, "You all must be very nervous about his presence here. Afraid he's going to rock your little boat right on—?"

"You will tell her that these things were recovered from her storage container and that she should expect a refund from the company, and nothing else." Stretch interrupted, before starting to head for the door.

"I will do _no_ such thing." Adelaide snapped after him. Stretch paused at the door as Adelaide continued, "I don't know what your bosses told you, but I'm _done_ doing their dirty work for them and I will _not_ lie to her anymore."

Stretch turned back to her, a self-satisfied smile stretched across his face, making Adelaide want to sock him in the jaw with her ring hand.

"Oh I think you will. See, while you were telling my bosses all about the mistakes _they_ made in leaving her in your charge, _you_ made one of your own." Stretch leaned towards her as if he were sharing a secret with her, "You _care_ about her. And you don't want to hurt her. _Imagine_, if you will, what you telling her the truth will do to her now."

He straightened, still smug; "You'd shatter her beyond any repair. And since you are a—," he raised his hands to mime quotation marks at her, "—'_decent_ human being,' we both know you wouldn't do that to her, no matter how _badly_ you wanted to make my bosses pay for insulting you."

Adelaide leveled her gaze at him, sizing him up momentarily again, before sighing, "You're right. I wouldn't do that to her now."

Stretch smirked at her, even chuckled a bit, before turning back to the door.

"I suppose," she called after him, "that that just means I have to do everything in my power to help her remember."

Stretch turned quickly to face her, face reddened with anger, but stopped before he could say anything by the growling of a dog. He turned his gaze back towards the rest of the shop and saw a large, black Great Dane standing there, teeth bared at him, ears pinned back, and hair standing on end.

"_Cute_ little fella, isn't he?" Adelaide asked, walking around the counter to stand by the behemoth dog. She crossed her arms as she stood by Little John, "Stretch, meet Jennifer's Guardian."

"That's the creature you gave to guard her?" Stretch asked, incredulously.

Adelaide laughed, "Oh, _I_ didn't do anything. She, like all my other charges, chose her Guardian. This is all her."

Little John growled at Stretch again, causing him to press himself against the door in fear. Adelaide grinned, "You would do _well_, Stretch, to remember, if not _who_ it is you're dealing with, then _what_ it is that's waiting for you should you _or_ your bosses _or_ anyone else decide to come back here and start making threats."

Stretch only glared at her as he pulled the door open behind him and backed out into the street as Little John barked after him.

"Easy, Little John," Adelaide soothed, holding her open palm out to him; he sniffed at it, and immediately began to calm down. He looked up at Adelaide and started wagging his tail.

She smiled at him and scratched his head, "That's a good boy."

He panted at her, tail still wagging happily.

"Go lay down, Little Thing, she'll be home soon." Adelaide said, pointing to the couch that he loved. He didn't have to be told twice, and made short work of getting comfortable on it with his head pointed towards the door to wait for Jennifer. Adelaide locked the store door, and turned all the lights off except for a lamp in the corner of the shop that was near Jennifer's door. As she began to climb the stairs up to the loft, she gave the store a final glance before going through the beaded curtain to her home.

Brielle's door was cracked slightly, to let the light from the living room into it, and Adelaide carefully pushed it open. She was only momentarily panicked to see the empty bed, before she remembered what she had told her before sending her up.

"Salsa," She said loudly in the small room, using the code word for her favorite pineapple-related recipe, and flipping the light switch.

"Upside-down cake," came the muffled reply from the toy chest at the foot of the bed.

Adelaide smiled as she opened it, revealing Brielle, curled up with her purple teddy bear on top of various other stuffed animals, "Hi Sweetness."

Brielle smiled tiredly up at her, "Hi Momma."

Adelaide picked her up out of the chest, cradling her as she carried her back to her bed, and Brielle yawned, "Did I help?

Once she was tucked in, Adelaide kissed her forehead, "You did so _good_ tonight, baby girl. Little John helped _exactly_ how I wanted him to."

"Is Auntie Jen gonna be okay?" she asked, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Of course she's going to be okay, she's got a little helper like you to watch out for her." Adelaide grinned at her.

"Is Auntie Jen real?" Brielle asked, hugging her teddy bear closer to her.

Adelaide sighed as she smoothed Brielle's long black hair on the pillow, "Auntie Jen is as real as anyone else who comes here, Sweetness."

Brielle nodded, chewing the inside of her lip as Adelaide continued, "But more importantly, what you _feel_ about her is real."

Adelaide poked the spot where Brielle's heart was in her chest, earning another brief tired smile out of her before it was replaced with sadness and worry, "Is Auntie Jen going to leave?"

Adelaide looked at her, confused, "Why do you ask, Sweetness?"

"I heard you talking to Mr. Stretch. He sounded like he wanted to take Auntie Jen away." She answered nervously, thinking Adelaide would be angry with her for eaves dropping.

Adelaide sighed, before smoothing Brielle's hair again, "I don't know, Brielle. Auntie Jen is having trouble remembering things, and when she does, I don't know what she's going to want to do."

Brielle nodded gravely.

"_But_," Adelaide said, cupping her daughter's chin in her hand, "what I do know, is that she _loves_ you very much, and that she would _never_ forget about you, or want to be away from you for very long."

Brielle smiled back at her mother, "I love Auntie Jen a lot."

Adelaide kissed her forehead, "I know you do, Sweetness. I do too. But not _nearly_ as much as I love you."

Brielle wrapped her arms around her neck, kissing her cheek, "I love you too, Momma."

Adelaide hugged her back, holding her as tightly as she could without hurting her.

"Momma, will you sing my song for me?" Brielle asked tiredly.

"Of course, baby girl, scoot on over for me," Adelaide answered, releasing Brielle and kicking off her shoes. She climbed into the twin-sized bed, Brielle resting her head over Adelaide's heart. Once they were settled, she began to sing, "_There's a hand written note pressed in the door of her screened in porch…_"

* * *

><p>Duke was sitting at the bar in the Fairmont by nine o'clock. He'd taken Holly's advice and, after a burger dinner, stood under his shower with the hottest water possible and scrubbed himself pink trying to get himself to look more like a normal, functioning person. He'd changed into one of the last clean button-downs he owned, the solid gray one, and a pair of matching jeans. He'd shaved, removing the excess stubble that had cropped up outside of his moustache and goatee, and started to look closer to his usual self. As he'd reassembled himself, rubbing gel into his hands and then running them through his hair, he realized how much he'd let his living space go.<p>

_Jennifer's gonna be so_ pissed _when she gets home_, he'd thought as he stuffed his laundry into a bag to eventually be taken to a Laundromat.

A dangerous thing to think, in retrospect, which only prompted him to remember how she'd reacted to him outside of the restaurant; _"I've never seen you before in my life."_

That had made him pause in his work. He didn't know much about the situation yet, but he _knew_, before anything else, that the only reason she wouldn't remember him would be because of that "Child of Ruin" bullshit from just before Jennifer opened that damn door.

_"There is nothing that could ever make me go through that door and leave you._ Nothing_."_

"Probably should've added an amnesia stipulation to that promise, Sweetheart," he'd said to himself, rubbing his face.

His phone had rung shortly after that. It had been Dwight, asking what, if anything, Duke had found out.

"Here I thought you were trying to have plausible deniability about the whole thing, 'Squatch," Duke had commented, "Or did I misinterpret what you leaving the file on my boat and then promptly leaving before you could see me open it meant?"

"Like I said," Dwight had responded, "She was too kind for the things that happened to her."

Duke had sighed at that, "Right."

"So. What have you found out?"

"How…" Duke had started to ask, before lowering his voice, "How _involved_ are Nathan and Audrey in this?"

"They aren't." Dwight had said, "Didn't seem worth telling them."

"Let's keep it that way. At least for a little while longer."

"Duke, _what_ did you find?" Dwight had asked again, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Duke had sighed before saying, "Yeah, 'Squatch. It's her."

There had been a pause before Dwight started to ask, "How—?"

Duke shook his head, "No idea. Not yet anyway. I'm meeting up with someone who claims to have answers later tonight."

"Holy shit." Was the only reply out of Dwight.

Duke had chuckled, "That about sums it up, yeah."

"I have to go," Dwight had said quickly, "Keep me posted."

"Sure thing." Duke had said, hanging up.

He'd left for the hotel shortly after that, and spent the better part of the hour dodging overly flirtatious women and a few men, and debating on ordering a drink. He finally settled on just ordering a glass of water and waiting it out; something told him he was going to need a clear head for whatever it was that Holly had to tell him.

He checked his watch for easily the sixtieth time since he sat down, when someone said to him, "What'cha drinkin', Sailor?"

He glanced to his right to see Holly sliding onto the stool next to him, smiling broadly. He smiled back at her, "If you're buying, something _much_ more expensive and certainly more alcoholic than this."

Holly laughed as she hugged him. She was still wearing the dress from the restaurant, making Duke assume that she'd come straight here from there. As he hugged her back, he looked towards the walkthrough to the lobby, half hoping to see Jennifer standing nervously at the entrance to the bar.

Holly broke the embrace, standing back and looking him over. She smiled at him, "Look at you. You clean up well."

Duke just smirked, shrugging in response as she slid back onto the stool next to him.

Holly looked at his hair, her brow furrowing even as she continued to smile, "You cut your hair. Jen's gonna be _pissed_."

"Yeah that thought's been occurring to me a lot lately." Duke answered, his smile now edged with sadness.

There was a pause as Holly ordered a glass of red wine before he asked carefully, "Is…is she…?"

Holly patted his arm, "She's not here, Duke. I took her home."

_Her home is on the Rouge._ "Where's—?"

"She's living with her cousin right now." Holly answered, seeming to know exactly what he was going to ask, "Doctors' orders until they give her a clean bill of health,"

"What? Is she okay?" Duke asked, turning his whole body towards Holly. His confusion was evident, but so was the fact that he wanted to take off running in whatever direction he thought Jennifer was just to be with her.

"Easy, Duke." Holly said, holding up a placating hand as the bartender poured her glass for her, "She's fine, everything's fine."

"_Nothing_ is fine, Holly, she doesn't _remember_ me." Duke snapped back.

Holly narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't you snap at me, Crocker, _I'm_ the one trying to help you."

Duke sighed, turning back to the bar and placing his elbows on it. He rubbed his face with his hands, before apologizing, "I'm sorry Holly. I just don't understand a single _fucking_ thing that's happening."

"Join the club." Holly sighed, turning to the bar and taking a drink of her wine, "So, should I go first or do you want to?"

He gave her a confused look, "Me?"

"Jennifer said that one of the things you said to her when you were…beyond yourself, was that you asked her how she was alive. Care to elaborate on that?" Holly asked.

Duke sighed, "It's gonna sound crazy."

Holly chuckled, "Son, 'crazy' seems to be the name of the game. Hit me."

Duke sighed and began to explain what Troubled Haven had been like, what role Audrey had played for a long time, what the Barn was, how Jennifer's presumed schizophrenia had really been her Trouble. He tried to cover as much as he could before finally reaching the last showdown at the lighthouse.

"She closed the door, and then she…she collapsed. She wasn't breathing and I…" Duke paused, gathering himself, and pushed on, "The lighthouse collapsed, I couldn't find her and when I finally did she…she was gone."

A silence fell on them as Holly processed this information. Then, very quietly, and very angrily, she said, "She died. Jen _died_. When were you going to _tell_ me?"

Duke bowed his head, "Holly, I _meant_ to, honest to God. But—,"

"The Troubles, right?" Holly cut him off, no longer whispering, but trying her hardest not to be yelling, "And that Audrey-Mara person? All of those things kept you from calling me and telling me that she was gone?"

"I'm sorry." He said weakly.

"'Sorry'?" She scoffed, "You're fucking _sorry_? I'm the _only_ family she has!"

Duke flinched at Holly's tone and her words. She was right, of course. He should have done something to let her know, "I know. I'm _sorry_, Holly."

She looked away from him, shaking her head, "Yeah, well, you fucking _should_ be."

She seethed for a few minutes before finally looking to the ceiling and sighing, "But I forgive you."

Duke glanced at her, and she turned to look at him head on, "I forgive you. Mostly because that explains a _whole_ lot on my end, and that's what Jennifer would want."

Duke nodded, mumbling, "Thank you."

She waved him away, "Besides, I don't suppose it matters now, since we both know she's alive. And that _does_ explain your reaction to seeing her."

Duke shifted on the stool nervously, "I scared her."

Holly nodded, "Yes, but I think you did more good than you realize."

Duke gave her a confused look as she took another drink of her wine. As she finished it, she smiled at him, "I guess it's my turn, huh?"

Duke turned so he could look at her dead on as she started, "It's kind of hard to explain but here it goes: I seem to have two sets of memories."

Duke laughed in shock, as Holly kept looking at him. Finally, realizing that Holly was serious, he said, "What?"

She laughed half-heartedly, "Oh no wait, it gets more complicated. See, I remember Jennifer not having any family after her parents died, and I remember her being diagnosed with schizophrenia, and I remember her going to Haven, Maine under the pretense of looking for her birth parents. I even remember the Skype conversations we had while she was out there; all of that is incredibly clear."

She shifted on the stool, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, "But then I have this whole _other_ set of memories. I remember Jennifer having a cousin named Adelaide whose family owned a bookstore. I remember them being _very_ close, I remember meeting her after we got back from Europe, I remember meeting the man who would be her husband and the father of her daughter, I remember their wedding, hell, I even remember being there when her daughter was _born_."

Holly paused, thinking, and took another drink of her wine, "I remember Desmond's, Adelaide's husband's, illness and funeral, I remember her at my _own_ wedding, and I remember her being there through Jen's mom's illness and when she died. What's _really_ weird for me, though, is that I don't…I don't _feel_ these memories."

"What do you mean?" Duke asked, the first thing he'd said since Holly started speaking.

"All these memories, they're…they're like pictures in a child's storybook. I _see_ them, I recognize them as something I should know, but I just…I don't _feel_ them like I feel my memories of Adelaide _not_ being there." She paused, looking into her wine glass but not seeming to be really looking at the contents, "It's like someone sat me down and showed me image after image, going, 'See? This happened, and then this. Remember this. Don't worry about anything else, there is _only_ this.'"

There was a pause as Duke processed this information. Someone had not only altered Jennifer's memories, but also the memories of the people who had been in her life prior to anything Haven related. But _why?_ Why do that? Why was Jennifer the only one who didn't remember Adelaide _not_ being there? And where had they, whoever 'they' were, been _keeping_ her for the passed for so long?

Holly finished her glass, "You should know that around the same time last year when my memory says that Jen was diagnosed with schizophrenia, I also remember her being in a sailing accident."

Duke furrowed his brow at that, "Sailing accident?"

Holly nodded, "Yeah. She and a friend from _The Globe_ went sailing one day, and she was distracted when the boom swung around and hit her square in the forehead. Knocked her out cold _and_ straight into the water. It took the guy a couple of minutes to realize what happened, but he got her out of the water and to the hospital as fast as he could."

Duke had to keep reminding himself that this didn't _actually_ happen, and yet he still couldn't help but want to ask for the guy's name so he could pay him a..._personal_ visit.

Holly eyed him, smirking, "If it makes you feel better, Adelaide made such a fuss over potentially suing him and maybe even _The Globe_ that they fired him, and offered Jennifer an early retirement with a promise of a job once the doctors clear her for going back to work."

Holly sighed, "Since then, she's been living with Adelaide at her bookstore," she raised her hands to mime quotation marks as she continued, "'taking it easy.' At least, that's what one of my memory sets says about the past year."

"Where's the bookstore?" Duke asked, seeming to only take the fact that Jennifer was staying in a bookstore away.

Holly reached into her wallet and pulled out a small business card with "Bouquin Bros. Used Bookstore" written on it in typewriter font and placed it on the bar, sliding it over to him, "Everything you need to _eventually_ see Jennifer."

Duke chuckled, "So, I take it that taking this card and running to the address right this second is _not_ a good idea in your book?"

Holly grinned at him, "See, your voice is joking, but your eyes say that that is _exactly_ what you want to do."

Duke chuckled again, studying the card for a moment and tapping its corner on the bar, before sighing, "Yeah."

There was a brief pause before Duke felt confident enough to ask, "When…when do you think I can see her again?"

Holly tilted her head to her right, considering it, before saying, "Give her some time. You spooked her pretty bad today."

Duke nodded, suddenly feeling crestfallen.

Holly put her hand on his forearm, getting him to look at her, "But I think you knocked something loose in her today."

"What do you mean?"

Holly grinned, "I think—now don't hold me to this—but I _think_ she's starting to remember you."

Duke stared at Holly, a smile slowly spreading across his face and hope bubbling up in his chest, "Really?"

Holly's grin broadened as she hopped off her stool, "Like I said, though, don't hold me to it."

Duke grabbed her hand before she walked away. When she turned and looked at him, he said, "Thank you."

She just smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze, "Get some rest, Sailor, you've got a long stay in Boston ahead of you."

Duke smiled and felt like, for the first time in a long time, that he'd be able to sleep a little easier tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Jennifer's nightmare sequence and some of the allusions made in it can be found in my one shot _On Nightmares and the Importance of Hot Chocolate_. Happy reading!

The drive back to the Rouge was going to be a fairly calm one, at least compared to his earlier drive to and through the North End. It would be a short drive as well, and while Duke wanted to take Holly's advice and get some rest, he also knew that he'd learned too much in the last twenty-four hours to sleep just yet. He decided, instead, to drive around the North End, at least for a little while, just to give himself a chance to categorize everything that he'd learned.

Whether or not he ended up outside a certain bookshop that was housing a certain pretty brunette would be purely coincidental.

At least, that's what he told himself.

He was still moderately surprised that Holly had forgiven him so quickly for not telling her that Jennifer had died. If he had been in her position, he doubted he would have done the same. But what could he have done? If he _had_ told Holly, she would've wanted to go to Haven to identify Jennifer and if she'd done _that_, she would've been in the heart of what had gotten Jennifer killed, putting her in danger. Jennifer would never have forgiven him if something had happened to Holly.

Besides, at the time, he didn't even have time to give Jennifer a proper burial…or really even have a body _to_ bury; after he'd identified her, there had been so much Trouble-related red tape to get through, that he never _actually_ saw her again.

Which brought him to the very simple yet groundbreaking discovery that Jennifer, _his_ Jennifer, was alive and in Boston. Even if she didn't remember him, her being alive and not remembering him was still a marked improvement from her being dead and not even having a grave he could visit. Memory he could work with.

_"Long distance relationships are pretty hard."_

Granted, he hadn't meant "from the side of the living to the side of the dead" kind of long distance at the time, but he felt that his point still stood as he parked the truck about a block away from the darkened bookstore just as a light rain started to fall.

Okay, so the temptation to be close to her however he could had won out, but he tried to comfort himself with the fact that he planned on staying in the truck and was just…_checking_ on the place as a concerned citizen.

The store was tucked between an independent art gallery and an antique store, and had wide display windows, showing some of the more recent additions to the store. The bookshelves, or what he could see of them thanks to the streetlights illuminating the darkened store, went from floor to ceiling, making it almost claustrophobic, even from this vantage point.

Whoever it was that had brought Jennifer back, even if they had hidden her from him, seemed to know her well enough to know that she'd be happiest at a bookstore.

This thought brought up a point he had been trying to put off considering, but as he was looking at the bookstore, it was the only thing he _could_ think about; was he being irredeemably selfish for wanting her back?

The obvious, albeit clearly rooted in self-loathing, answer was that yes, he _was_ being selfish in wanting her back. He was being selfish for wanting her in his arms, on his boat, and in his bed. He was being selfish for wanting to hear her sleep heavy voice tell him "good morning" and for wanting to see her drowsy smile. He was being selfish for wanting to be the one who held her after a nightmare and for wanting to be the one who got her to go back to sleep next to him. But mostly, he was being selfish for wanting to take her away from a place where she was clearly happy and where she didn't have any memory of hearing voices or of thinking and being told she was crazy or of being attacked or of dying, and he was selfish for wanting to show to her that all of that wasn't true.

Jesus, why didn't he just leave her _alone_? So _what_ if her memories weren't real? She was _safe_ and she was _happy_. Even if it wasn't with him, isn't that what he'd _wanted_? He sighed, leaning back into the driver's seat and staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do or even think next, when he remembered something that the Buddha had once said.

_"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."_

The truth.

If nothing else, Jennifer was _owed_ the truth. And he wanted to give it to her, even if she hated him afterwards, and even if she didn't want to see him again; she deserved to make her _own_ choice.

Okay. So that'd been decided, but now it was figuring out _who_ had taken Jennifer, where'd they'd been keeping, and why it was only _now_ that people were seeing any signs of her being alive. Was it to keep her safe from Mara? But then why leave her with her memories altered like they were, now that Mara was dealt with? And why not let her go back to Haven now that everything was over? And just who the hell was this Adelaide woman and how did she fit into it all?

He sighed again, rubbing his face with his hands before putting them back on the steering wheel, and looked back towards the store. As he registered what he was seeing, he froze.

Jennifer was standing by the door, looking out at the street, and holding a mug of something. She was wearing her dark gray sweatpants and her purple Emerson t-shirt. Her hair was rumpled from sleeping, and her eyes looked puffy, as if she had been crying, but it was hard to tell in the harsh yellow light of the streetlight.

She must've had a nightmare.

And there wasn't someone to wake up with her, to calm her down, to listen to her talk about her nightmare as she made hot chocolate.

It took everything in him not to get out of his truck, cross the street, _maybe_ break through the door, and just…God just _hold_ her. She looked tired and sad and confused and it was _maddening_ that he couldn't do anything for her.

"What're you doin' up, Short Stack?" he asked her figure, leaning lightly against the steering wheel. She looked so much smaller than he remembered her, but perspective and time would do that.

She was looking up and down the street, and her mouth was moving slightly. Maybe she was singing to herself like she did sometimes when she was trying to comfort herself, probably _Not in Nottingham_, if he remembered right. Or maybe she was just talking to herself like she did more often than "sometimes."

Something caught her attention to her left, and she turned to look at it, shifting her mug to her right hand, and giving him the slightest better look at it. It was strange, but even in the harsh light of the streetlight, it almost looked like her bright yellow, horribly '80s mug, which couldn't be possible because it was still on the Rouge.

Just like the pajamas she was wearing.

"Wait a minute." Duke said as the realization hit him. Everything Jennifer had with her right now were things that he'd locked away on the Rouge. She shouldn't have them.

Unless…

Duke started the truck and headed back to the dock and the Rouge. He was speeding to the point of reckless driving, but luckily for him, it seemed like any cop that could've done anything about it was preoccupied elsewhere. He'd barely parked and turned off the truck before he was out of it, rushing onto the Rouge. He ran to her door, testing the handle. It was still locked, just as he'd left it, only deepening his confusion and agitation. He used his keys to unlock the door and let it swing open.

"Son of a _bitch_." He growled as he looked around the now empty room. It was devoid of _any_ evidence that Jennifer had ever been there. He ran his hands through his hair as he surveyed the room.

It was all gone. Her quilt on the bed, the box of random things from her birth parents' house, the articles of clothing she'd left on the bed, the small stack of books she'd had next to her mattress, hell, even her _scent_; it was just all _gone_. In a sudden fit of paranoia, he pulled out his cellphone and pulled up the pictures he had. He let out a sigh of relief; whatever they were capable of, they hadn't taken his pictures of him and Jennifer from him.

It was pictures from the birthday they spent together; the photo he had up was from after he placed the cake on the table in front of her and she was grinning broadly at him over the glow of the candles on the cake.

She was so happy.

He closed out of the pictures, pocketing his phone, and closed the door to what had been her room, re-locking it out of habit and stubbornness. He stalked around the Rouge, checking everywhere he could think of that someone would plant something to monitor his movements or even his conversations. When his search came up empty (he didn't even find a suspicious looking barnacle on the side of the boat), he went back to his room, locking the door behind him.

He sat on the edge of his bed before falling back on it, being careful not to disturb the side of the bed to his right; where she used to sleep. He pulled out his phone again, and pulled his pictures back up, trying to quell the rage that was bubbling up in him. After the first picture of her glowing in the light of her birthday candles, there was a series of pictures of her blowing out the candles, and then cutting the cake, until he came to his favorite picture from that day. It was of the two of them, with cake smeared across their faces, both beaming like fools at the camera. It had started because he had made some joke about how he had _slaved_ over that cake so she had better save him some. This caused her to think that, well if it was so good, it'd be a shame if it was wasted, and before he could even _blink_ she'd smashed some of it all over his face. A mild food fight had broken out between them, and by the end of it they were both wearing most of the cake, but she was smiling so big and had laughed so hard, it didn't really matter.

"Happy Birthday, Short Stack." He'd said, kissing her and smearing more of the cake on their faces.

She had laughed at him, "Easily the best birthday I've had in a _long_ time."

There'd been a pause, as he'd wiped off some of the cake from his face, when she'd look at him, still grinning and said, "I don't think I can remember the last time I was this happy."

And they had come and taken her, any _trace_ of her, away from that. Away from _him_.

Whoever, _what_ever they were, and whatever they were capable of, Duke thought as he closed out of his pictures, they just made themselves one _hell_ of an enemy.

* * *

><p>Once Jennifer got back to the shop, she had been elated to see her possessions from the storage unit on the counter, albeit a bit confused by the box and it's contents. Little John had come right up to her, tail wagging at top speed as she smiled at him and gave him a good pet session, even as she continued to glance at the items on the counter. Once Little John seemed appropriately loved on, he went back to lie on the couch while she looked through the box. She didn't recognize any of the items within it, but she chalked it up to just another bout of incompetence on the part of the storage company. She did think, however, that Brielle would love the purple haired Troll doll. She pulled it out and put it on the shelf behind the counter to give to her tomorrow.<p>

She glanced, momentarily, at the book on the counter; some sort of trashy vampire-romance that she vaguely remembered being a big deal a few years ago. She left it where it was, thinking that maybe Adelaide had been reading it and unthinkingly left it on the counter, and hoped to catch her trying to hide it from her the next day.

She locked the store front doors behind her before she started rummaging through the bag. Her quilt was there, folded neatly, and so were a few articles of clothing that she had missed. She found her dad's gaudy, yellow, _Will Someone Please Shoot The Computer?!_ coffee mug wrapped in his sweater, and took it into the kitchenette, stashing it in a cabinet for later. She went back out to the main floor of the shop and hitched her bag over her shoulder and decided to leave the box out for her and Adelaide to look through tomorrow. She let the sweater fold over her hands as she clicked her tongue for Little John to follow her back to her room. He ambled off the couch once again, stretching at first, before trotting along behind her. She held the door to her room open for him as he leapt onto the bed. As he made himself comfortable on the right hand side of the bed, Jennifer kicked the door closed, placed the bag on the floor by the foot of her bed before sitting on the edge of it, kicking off her shoes, and finally looked at the sweater.

Even though it still looked like a strange combination of other sweaters, with its blue body, green sleeves, and tan elbow patches, it was still the most comforting thing she owned. She held the sweater up to her nose and smelled it, as she usually did when she'd been away from it for a while. Her father's scent had long since disappeared from the fabric, but sometimes she liked to think that she could still, just barely, smell him there.

That was not the case this time. She smelled the sweater and was hit with the scent of the sea, of salt water and metal, and of a cologne that made the throb come back.

Jennifer took a deep breath away from the sweater, studying it carefully. Where the hell had they been _keeping_ her stuff? Another throb, like a wave, pushed against the back of her eyes, pulling her attention back to it.

After she had told Holly about the throbs, Holly told her to keep pushing.

"The next time you get one of those throbs, Jen, I want you to _push_ on it until it becomes clear." Holly had said, her tone severe.

Jennifer had chewed her lip, "But it…"

"I know. I know it hurts, but you _gotta_ push on them so you can remember."

"But _what_ am I remembering? Just because a door _can_ be opened, Holly, doesn't mean it _should_ be."

Holly had sized her up for a moment before saying, "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life telling yourself that the memories that are _constantly_ just barely out of your reach _aren't_ important?"

Jennifer sighed as she looked down at the sweater in her lap, "No. I don't."

Little John crawled carefully over to her, sniffing at the sweater, tail wagging contentedly. He looked up at her, expectantly.

She patted his head, "Just give me a minute, Buddy. I know what I promised you, but this…this is important."

Little John shifted closer to her, leaning his face slightly into her arm. She looked back at the sweater and took a calming breath before she held the sweater up to her nose and took a deep breath.

The pain in her head was excruciating, suddenly making it feel as if it was going to split open, but Jennifer pushed back against it. The small part of her from earlier seemed to be shouting now, trying to be heard over the throb and telling her that the cologne belonged to someone incredibly important to her, someone that made her happy, someone that she _loved_. It tried to show her the image from earlier, but it was still too shrouded in confusion to be clear.

It was like she was remembering parts of a dream: all scattershot and unclear. She saw and remembered a boat but not the name of it, and a computer with the feeling of Holly coming from it, and something about waffles, and there was a whisper of a thought about Amsterdam; but she didn't see the whole that all these pieces made, just the battered individual parts that didn't make sense. What _was _clear was that she felt warmth and safety and trust and a promise that filled her up to the point that she thought her heart would break.

_"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."_

It was the same voice from when she'd been playing with Brielle, but it was clearer, if only slightly, and she was struck with a recent familiarity to it; it was if she had heard the voice even more recently and somewhere else other than her head. It was still muddled, though, as if it were the recording of an echo of an echo.

But _who?_ Who was this "someone" that was so damn important and whose voice she was hearing? The pain in her head was making her nauseous and was enough to threaten to cause her to lose consciousness, but she wanted to keep pushing.

The pain was roaring over the sound of the small part of her that was trying to talk to her and she wanted to push until she couldn't anymore, telling herself over and over again, "This is important," but Little John's cry next to her pulled her out of her mind before it could answer her question.

_Gray._ That was all she got. Gray and…seagulls?

She opened her eyes, suddenly aware of how desperate Little John's cries had gotten, as well as a pounding that was coming from somewhere other than her head.

"Jennifer?" A panicked voice was yelling from the other side of her door in between loud _thumps_ against it, "Jennifer talk to me, Little John's cries are freaking me out. _Jennifer!_"

Jennifer stood up carefully, her knees feeling like Jell-O, and walked to the door.

"I'm coming!" She called to the door, her voice weak and shaking, as Little John bounded off the bed after her, sniffing at her and still whimpering. She placed what she wanted to be a placating hand on his head and ended up leaning into him as she reached for the door handle. She opened the door to see Adelaide in long-sleeved gray shirt that she vaguely registered as one of Desmond's old shirts and a pair of blue pajama pants. She tried to smile at her cousin, "Hi."

Adelaide gave her an incredulous look, "'Hi'? I come down here because it sounds like Little John's being _gutted_, I've been _pounding_ on your door for, like, five _minutes_, you're as pale as a _sheet_, and all you have to say for yourself is _'hi'_?"

Jennifer shifted nervously, trying to stand on her own though Little John only moved closer to her and still trying to smile reassuringly at Adelaide, "You're really pretty?"

Adelaide made a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Very slowly, she opened her eyes again and said, "Care to _actually_ explain what's going on down here?"

"Um. Funny story—true story—uh, you know how I…I promised Little John a walk before I left? Well I guess I was taking too long to get ready to go so he started throwing a fit, but, uh, I'm fine." Jennifer lied; trying to put off explaining to her cousin her memory throbs just yet.

Little John looked up at her and if a dog's face could portray betrayal, that's the look he was giving her. Adelaide, on the other hand, was looking at her in blatant disbelief as she said, "Jennifer Mason, you have _got _to be _the_ worst liar I have _eve_r met."

Jennifer smiled nervously, "I'll have to tell Holly you said that; she claims she was the one who 'finally taught me how to lie.'"

"If you paid for that service, I'd demand your money back." Adelaide smirked as she crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her right leg, "C'mon, Short Stack, what's going on."

Jennifer shifted, still smiling nervously, "You know you're the second person to call me that today?"

Adelaide arched an eyebrow at her, but stayed quiet as she waited for Jennifer to tell her what was going on.

Jennifer sighed, rubbing her forehead. She scratched Little John between his shoulders, as she stood up straighter, no longer needing to lean on him, and tried to explain herself to her cousin, "I was…I was trying to remember something and it was making my head hurt pretty badly and I think Little John knew that I was in pain so he started freaking out. I'm really sorry he woke you up, but it was just—,"

"It was important." Adelaide finished for her, nodding her head.

Jennifer gave her a shocked look, "Yeah."

Adelaide nodded again, keeping her silence as she let herself get lost in her thoughts for a moment, before shrugging at Jennifer and saying, "If you decide to take Little John for a walk, make sure to ask Joshua to go with you; just for my own sanity."

Jennifer stared at her in disbelief, "Aren't you going to ask what—?"

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Adelaide said over her shoulder, "Be safe. Sleep well."

"Uh," Jennifer stammered, "you too."

As Adelaide disappeared around a bookshelf, waving back at her, Jennifer looked down at Little John who was looking up at her excitedly, "You got anything to add to what just happened here?"

Little John hopped up slightly and licked her face earning a disgusted groan from Jennifer as he went back to standing on all fours next to her. She changed into the dark gray sweatpants that were in the bag brought by the storage unit people and threw on her dad's sweater over her old purple Emerson t-shirt. She grabbed a pair of tennis shoes from her tiny closet, and pocketed her cellphone and keys as she grabbed Little John's leash from a hook by her door. Little John's tail was wagging ecstatically as she turned to look at him. She snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor, signaling Little John to sit, once he did, she clicked leash to his collar and walked with him to the storefront.

Gray seagulls. What does it have to do with the figure? What does that have to do with _anything?_

As she turned to lock the store behind her, a voice down the street called out, "Want some company?"

She sighed as Joshua approached her, though she was moderately grateful for the distraction, "I take it Adelaide called you?"

Joshua smiled as he scratched Little John's head, "Were _you_ going to?"

Jennifer just sighed again as she tugged lightly on Little John's leash, leading him up the street as Joshua fell into step to her right, "I don't know why she thinks I need an escort; I used to walk Little John by myself all the time, no matter the time of day."

Joshua smirked at her, burying his hands into his pea coat, "I'll make sure that _that_ doesn't make it into my report back to her."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Joshua, you don't have to do this, I'm sure there are more interesting things for a 27 year old to be doing on a Friday night."

"You must be thinking of a 27 year old who _wasn't_ already home when his neighbor called him asking to walk with her cousin who insisted on walking her dog in the middle of the night." Joshua retorted, grinning broadly at her.

She made a face at him, "It is _not_ the middle of the night."

Joshua just laughed.

He was always quieter around Brielle than he was around her or even Adelaide, and Jennifer was pretty sure that it had something to do with the fact that he was sure everything he did and said near Brielle was going to influence her for the rest of her life, so he was always on his best behavior around her.

Still, to Jennifer he was always going to be Holly's little brother and that would always make him the nervous ten year old who would sometimes annoy them when they were hanging out.

"Oh!" She gasped, "I completely forgot to lecture Holly about not getting in touch with you today!"

Joshua laughed, "Don't worry about it, I texted her shortly after I left Adelaide's earlier today; we're figuring out if she's going to stay with me for part of her month long sabbatical in our great city or if she'll just stay at the Fairmont on Battery Wharf."

Jennifer grinned as Little John stopped to sniff a pole, "Nothing says 'fun' like having your big sister sharing your swingin' bachelor's pad."

Joshua just chuckled, rolling his eyes at her, and let a silence fall over them briefly. Jennifer looked around at the lights still on in some of the buildings, wondering what was going on in those rooms. When she had first moved from the suburbs to the dorms at Emerson, she was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people around her, and one of the ways she took to coping with that baffling number, was to give the people she saw on the street and through her window at the dorm stories. It'd been a long time since she'd been on a walk or had the opportunity to tell herself stories about the people around her.

Some birds flew away down the street, making her jump. Joshua chuckled at her, while Jennifer mumbled, "Stupid gulls."

_The Gray Gull._

It flashed before her eyes so quickly and so suddenly, she staggered back slightly; a bar on the waterfront, a loft she'd been using, a damn fine margarita, orange juice, a cut on her finger. Voices; all overlapping, all saying different things, but all seeming to belong to the same handful of people: _"Isn't it cool that your brother owns a bar?" "You're the one who keeps saying I'm not crazy, that I'm—," "You know you didn't have to toss those. You could've given them to me; for recreational purposes." "You look fantastic." "Stay. I don't care that the—," "It's my bar; narc." "You kissed me." "You kissed me back." "You should have a will too, especially in—,"_

"Jen? You okay? How're you feeling?" Joshua asked as he turned to her and crouched slightly, trying to catch her eye, as Little John tugged on the leash to continue down the block.

Jennifer came back to herself, everything that had flashed in her mind disappearing, as if she'd been woken from a dream. The images that had flashed in front of her disappeared from her mind, leaving only the after-image of them, like the shadows of people left after a nuclear explosion. The voices were what made her pause. She recognized her own, and the voice that had been popping up more (this time clearer than it had ever been; it almost sounded like that friend of Holly's she'd met earlier that day), but it was as if someone had gone through and cut out things from what had been said.

She shook herself; trying to piece all of that together _now_ wasn't going to help anyone, especially if Joshua was going to make some sort of report back to Adelaide. She glanced at him. Tomorrow. That's what Adelaide had said. _Just keep the details to yourself until tomorrow,_ Jennifer thought, as she sighed at him, "Is there anyone I'm going to see today that's _not_ going to ask me that?"

They turned the corner to the block as Joshua chuckled, glancing at her like he didn't quite believe that that was the problem but letting it go for now, "What can I say? You've got a community of concerned citizens on your side."

She smirked, "Worry-wart wardens, more like."

Joshua gave her a confused look but she waved him away. After a moment, Jennifer sighed, rubbing her forehead with the hand that wasn't keeping a tight hold on the part of the leash that was near Little John's collar. _The Gray Gull,_ she repeated in her mind. Even if everything else that came with the name went away, at least _that_ stayed. She was surprised that the throb didn't accompany the flashes. In fact, she didn't feel any pain at all. She felt…_good._

"I'm…" she started, trying to find the right words to tell him what, exactly, she was.

She paused, and then let out a heartbroken laugh, "I don't _know_ what I am."

Joshua placed a nervous hand on her shoulder, "Jen?"

She looked at him and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "Josh."

They turned left again, walking parallel to the street that the bookstore was on, as Jennifer tried to gather how she wanted to explain herself. Joshua pulled his hand back, depositing it back into his coat pocket. She fidgeted briefly, feeling agitated at herself that she was making Joshua feel as if she didn't trust him.

She decided to tell him _something_.

"I…I told Holly about this tonight, but…I've…I've been getting these, um, _throbs_ right behind my eyes," Jennifer said, keeping her eyes on Little John, "They come up when I…when I start to, um…"

She sighed, pausing briefly as Little John sniffed another pole, "I'm starting to get these, like, memory flashes."

Joshua gave her a confused look, "Memory flashes?"

She shrugged, "Or at least, that's what I'm calling them; I'm not really sure. Either what they mean or what they are. There are just these times when they pop up and they make my head hurt, but…"

She let a silence fall as they turned back towards the bookstore, unsure of what else to tell him and also feeling as if she'd said too much already. Joshua kept glancing at her, trying to gauge what to say or do next.

"You said Holly knows?" Joshua asked carefully.

Jennifer nodded. Little John glanced at her, panting happily.

"What did Holly say? To do about the flashes, I mean?" Joshua asked, watching her.

Jennifer smirked, "Exactly what you'd expect; to push on them until I know."

Joshua chuckled as they got near the store, "Yeah. That's exactly what I'd expect."

Jennifer smiled back as she unlocked the store door and as he continued, "But, you know, I don't know if I agree."

She gave Joshua a confused look, holding the door open and letting Little John into the store. Joshua's expression was serious as he said, "A door once opened can go both ways."

Jennifer studied Joshua as his expression lightened again and he smiled back at her, nodding towards her as he said, "Anyway. Always a pleasure, Ms. Mason. Rest well."

With that, Joshua turned around and headed back to the art gallery next door, where his apartment was. She ducked back into the bookstore, locking the door again behind her, incredibly confused by what Joshua had said. Little John looked at her, tail wagging and head cocked.

"Got anything to say to that?" She asked him as he trotted back up to her and sniffed at her hand so she'd pet him. _What is up with doors today?_ She wondered briefly, before shaking her head; it'd been too long of a day to follow that thought down its rabbit hole. She smiled at Little John, scratching behind his ears and getting them to flap against his head, before sending him in the direction of her room, a command he obediently followed. Jennifer took in the store for a moment; the bookcases, the glow from the lap in the corner by her room, the threadbare formerly floral print couch next to her, the small kitchenette behind the counter, the scent of old binding glue and equally old paper; all these things that had become home to her over the passed year.

She felt safe there, tucked away between other people's stories, but a thought occurred to her that surprised her, _I don't want to be here._

And it scared her how true it was. She didn't want to be there, but she didn't know where else she wanted to be. Well, that wasn't true. Something in her wanted to be on the boat she had seen when she'd pushed against the throb in her head earlier. But she didn't even know where it was or if it was even real.

_The Gray Gull_, though.

That seemed real enough, and as she considered the after-image flashes in her mind, and even the almost-Duke-like voice that had come with them, she found herself longing for it. Maybe she should call Holly tomorrow, just to see if she knew anything about a bar by that name, and if it had any connection to her friend who seemed so convinced he knew her. And if the after-images were to be believed, she apparently knew him too.

She shook her head at herself (speaking of thoughts that weren't worth following down their rabbit hole tonight) before she headed back to her room, calling a quiet "goodnight" up the stairs to Adelaide and Brielle as she walked passed. There was a faint light coming from somewhere behind the beaded curtain; probably Adelaide getting her "report" from Joshua. She could hear the white noise machine in Brielle's room, letting her know that she was already asleep.

There was nothing to be done now about a potentially real restaurant, and she felt foolish and near treasonous for thinking that she didn't want to be there, at the bookshop. _This_ was her home, she tried to tell herself, but even as she tried to believe it, she knew it wasn't completely true; "home" was far and away, and it had been that way for a long time.

She kicked her door closed as she pulled off the sweater, tossing it next to the bed. She pulled her cellphone and keys out of her pockets and set them back into her purse next to the bed. She climbed into bed next to Little John who only lifted his head at her before settling back in. Something about the ritual felt incomplete, as if something was missing, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it; a feeling she was starting to become very familiar with. She sighed to herself; she _would_ call Holly tomorrow, she decided, curling up on her left side towards Little John, and closing her eyes.

Sleep came quickly, though it was not kind.

She had a nightmare, one that she felt she'd had before, about a forest green room like the one she was staying in, and about just _knowing_ there was an evil with her that she had to keep in that room with her. She tried to tell someone who was acting like a therapist, a blonde woman with a nose ring, about it but the therapist didn't really believe her. She remembered thinking that she was supposed to be her friend; why was she doing this?

She tried to tell the blonde woman not to open the door, to not let the evil out, but she didn't listen and opened the door to leave Jennifer in that room. The evil got to her, making her lock Jennifer in that forest green room, and saying things over some sort of intercom system. She didn't know what was being said to her, but she knew what came next; the doors. Suddenly all four walls of the green room had doors, some right next to each other, some not; doors that wouldn't open, some that would with others behind them that were locked—like adjoining hotel rooms. And no matter how hard she pounded, no matter how loudly she yelled, the same thoughts kept repeating in her head over and over again:

_No one hears me._

_No one cares._

_I'm never getting out of this room._

Another voice, underneath the broken record of her panic, said that she should wake up now.

The dream should be over now, why wasn't she waking up? She needed to wake up, he was going to be so worried if she didn't wake up, _why wasn't she waking up?_

She kept pounding against the doors, going from screaming, "Let me out!" to "Let me wake up!"

"Let me wake up! _Please!_ Let me wake up, he _needs_ me! Let me wake up!"

Another voice was coming through now.

No.

Not "another" voice.

_The_ voice.

It was saying her name, and it sounded desperate and lost and scared.

_Jennifer? Jennifer! She's not breathing. Jennifer! Wake up! Jennifer, wake up! Jennifer! Jen-!_

She shot up in her bed, Little John starting up with her and jumping off the bed. He looked at her, tail wagging and whimpering at her. She took a few breaths, trying to get herself to stop shaking, and pressed her hands to her neck, entwining her fingers behind her neck. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her stomach felt like she'd spent the better part of the day at an amusement park. She felt scared and trapped, like she was still trapped in that room. Sobs were fighting for space in her throat, making it feel raw, though no sound came out. She rocked back and forth on the bed for a moment, pulling her knees up to chest, and tried to breathe around the constriction of her throat.

She got the feeling there should be someone next to her, in Little John's spot; that someone should be there to touch her neck and to comfort her.

There it was again.

_Should be._

Little John leaned against the bed, whimpering again, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sniffed, trying to straighten herself out and to breathe normally, as she reached a shaking hand to him and touched his head, "I'm…" she coughed, clearing her throat and tried again, "I'm okay, buddy. I'm gonna be okay."

She climbed out of her bed, hands still shaking, and opened her door. She scrubbed at her face as she headed for the kitchenette and her mug.

Hot chocolate.

Hot chocolate would help.

Just like it always did.

Little John followed after her, sticking close enough so that she felt his nose press against her arm. Once in the kitchenette and once the mug was in her hands, she realized she was shaking too hard to make hot chocolate the way that her dad had usually done it; warming the milk in a saucepan and then carefully pouring it into the mug. Little John sat near the fridge, watching Jennifer work. As she poured the milk into the mug, she quietly apologized to her dad and set the mug in the microwave. She spoke quietly to herself as she worked; trying to tell herself she was talking to Little John, and recounted the dream to make it seem less real.

Doors again. Not too surprising, given that that was kind of a theme today, a weird theme, but a theme nonetheless. But why did the room she had been trapped in seem so similar to her room here? She had been feeling a bit trapped lately, she was willing to admit that, but why the therapist? The only time she remembered ever seeing a therapist was shortly after her father died, but that had been more of a grief counselor, and it certainly hadn't been anyone who looked like _that_. Yet, somehow, the woman acting as the therapist was definitely familiar to her. She shook her head at herself, it was just a dream, and moreover, it was a _done_ dream.

"The nightmare only gets power if I give it," She said to herself as she finished recounting the dream; repeating what her father had often told her when she was done talking about nightmares.

She found a box of hot chocolate mix near the coffee maker; probably something Adelaide had grabbed for her the last time she went grocery shopping. As she pulled out a spoon from the drawer, Jennifer remembered, vaguely, how once, when she was little, Adelaide was staying at their house when Jennifer had had a nightmare.

She had tried not to wake her up as she went to her parents' room, but there was very little that Adelaide didn't notice or know. As she and her father had gone down to the kitchen, Adelaide had followed after, keeping quiet as she climbed into the chair next to her, and had let Jennifer talk about her nightmare. When Jennifer started getting panicky recounting the dream, Adelaide had held her hand, not saying anything but still trying to help. When they had gotten back to her room, Adelaide had climbed into bed next to her, saying, "They won't get you if I'm with you. I know how to fight them."

She smiled weakly as she poured the mix into the mug, stirring it, "Adelaide always knows."

Once she was satisfied with the mixture, she walked out to look out the window at the street. It had started to rain, making the light of the street lamps seem somehow contained in the droplets that were falling from the sky. There were a few cars parked up and down the street; probably people who didn't know about the parking limits.

There was a pale colored truck about a block down that looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't have the energy to push on it.

She took a drink from her mug, still studying the rainy street, and started humming _Not in Nottingham_, something her mom would sing to her when she was starting to feel like the world was getting too heavy.

"_Every town has its ups and downs. Sometimes the ups outnumber the downs. But not in Nottingham._" She sang quietly.

She took another drink as Little John came to sit next to her and as she reached the end of the song, "_Can't you see the tears we're cryin'? Can't there be some happiness for me? Not in Nottingham._"

Little John was calm for a moment; seeming to survey the street with Jennifer, when something caught his eye and he immediately went back to standing on all fours, tail wagging erratically. He glanced from Jennifer to the street, and scratched at the door, whimpering quietly. He was acting as if he saw someone he _knew_ outside and wanted to go greet them before they even made it to the shop.

"Sh, Little John," Jennifer whispered at him, shifting the mug to her right hand and placing her left on his head. She glanced towards the spiral stairs, hoping that Little John's whimpering wouldn't wake Adelaide again, before she looked back down the street, trying to find what had gotten Little John all worked up.

The only difference she could discern was that the pale truck was now gone. She shifted nervously from foot to foot and scratched his head, "No one's there, buddy."

He whined again, tail stopping it's wagging, and looked up at her in disappointment. She took another drink from her mug and patted his shoulder, "I'm sorry, bud. C'mon, let's go back to bed. Tomorrow will be here before we know it."

She turned from the door and headed back towards her room. After another heartbroken whine at the door, Little John followed her.

* * *

><p>Joshua's phone buzzed in his pocket seconds after he made it back up to his apartment. "Swingin' bachelor's pad" Jennifer had called it, but she couldn't be more wrong. The apartment was simple in design, and fairly neat. The walls were a tan color, with a few pictures of him, Holly, and their parents on the walls. As he pulled off his pea coat, and tossed it over the arm of the couch. He didn't look at who was calling him as he answered his phone, "Yes, Adelaide?"<p>

"What'd you learn?" the voice on the other end asked as he sank into his couch.

"Your suspicions were correct," he sighed in response, leaning back into the cushions, "she's starting to remember things."

"Anything specific?" Adelaide asked simply.

Joshua shook his head, "She didn't say. Just that she was getting these 'memory flashes' and that Holly had told her to push on them so she could remember more."

Adelaide tsked her tongue on the other end, "She'll hurt herself if she keeps doing that."

Joshua rubbed his eyes with his left hand, "Are we still sure that it's a good idea for her to be pushing _at all_? A door once opened—,"

"Can go both ways." Adelaide finished on the other end, "I was the one who taught you that, remember?"

Joshua sighed, his agitation threatening to get the better of him, "And yet my point still stands."

Adelaide sighed back, "Josh, this isn't about what _we_ think or what _we_ want. It's always been about _her_. It's about letting her make her _own _choices."

Joshua leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, "I know that. But the other side's getting…nervous, especially since that Crocker guy showed up."

She laughed, "_Nervous_? They had someone go onto his _boat_ and remove every _trace_ of her from it. That doesn't say 'nervous' to me, that says that they're poking the bear."

"You think they're _that_ self-assured?" Joshua asked in disbelief.

"I think that they think that since Haven's no longer a Trouble spot, that the threat that Duke Crocker poses has somehow been lessened." Adelaide replied.

"You seem to think otherwise." Joshua noted, rubbing his neck.

"I think that Duke Crocker was dangerous _long_ before he realized his family's legacy and there is nothing on God's green earth that will keep him and Jennifer Mason apart." Adelaide replied matter-of-factly, "It's been, what, a _year_ since she died? And at the slightest _hint_ that that could be different, he just abandons his plans to finally leave everything behind just to…just to what, _check_? And then she meets him for a _second_, not knowing _who_ he is or _what_ he is to her, and that's enough for her to want to _push_ for answers? Are you trying to tell me that that _doesn't_ sound like some goddamn determination on both their parts?"

"How did he even _find_ her anyway? I mean, aside from basically altering part of reality—which I'm still struggling to really wrap my mind around by the way—they changed her phone, they stashed her car, they altered Internet records, they changed her credit cards; wait, weren't the cards they gave her technically listed under _your_ name?" Joshua asked, standing from the couch and heading for his small kitchen, tucked next to the front door.

He pulled a beer out of his fridge as Adelaide explained simply, "I gave her back her actual cards."

Joshua froze, letting the fridge door slam closed, "You did _what_."

"Don't you take that tone with me, Joshua." Adelaide warned, taking on her "mom" voice, "It was the right thing to do."

"Adelaide," Joshua said, still in blatant disbelief, "You didn't have the _right_—,"

"'The _right_'?" Adelaide interrupted, "Joshua, for her it's been a _year_ since she did _anything_ on her own and I don't know if you're _aware_ but a year is a long fucking time to be dependent on another person; family or not."

"_Jesus_, Adelaide, why don't you just go down stairs and tell her everything right _now._" Joshua laughed humorlessly, "That determination that they have that you were talking about before? The other side could _do_ something about that."

Adelaide scoffed at him over the phone as Joshua sat back down on his couch, "Like what, fake her death _again_, hide her way _again_, scrub her memory _again_, and then send her back into the world? That's too much; they'd destroy her."

"Or they could just kill him, since he seems to be such a big trigger for her." Joshua posed, gesturing emphatically with his beer bottle though he knew he couldn't see him.

"No. He's too important to just kill off because he's getting a little too close to something; if they had wanted him dead, he never would've made it to Boston." Adelaide commented, sighing slightly.

Joshua rolled his eyes, his agitation bubbling back up, "Right, so if they're both alive, like they apparently _need_ to be, they'll find each other no matter what anyone does or says, so that leaves us…_where_, exactly?"

Adelaide sighed, "Where it's always left us, Joshua. It leaves us with letting them, letting _Jennifer_ make her own choices."

There was a pause. Joshua took a swig of his beer as Adelaide carefully said, "Joshua, if you're _this_ worried about the other side—,"

"You're damn right I'm worried about the other side." Joshua snapped, cutting her off, "Twice in one day you've managed to piss them off, both times revealing some of your best defenses and greatest weakness. I mean, Jesus, Adelaide, talk about poking the bear! If they _try_ something—,"

"Joshua." She said calmly, forcing him to stop.

He let out an agitated breath but kept quiet and took another drink of beer.

"They don't scare me. None of them ever have. And if they try something, they _will_ fail." She said coolly.

Joshua let out an incredulous chuckle, "Jesus, Adelaide. What _are_ you?"

"I'm just a used bookstore owner." Came the simple reply. Something in her tone told him that she was smiling and it made Joshua shake his head as he set his beer bottle on the floor between his feet. That was always the answer to that question and any of it's variants; "Just a bookstore owner." Joshua had been helping her for two years and he'd lost count of how many times he'd heard her say it to her "charges". He wondered if she knew that at this point it was more of a joke to him than it was a valid explanation or if that was the point; that it was always a joke.

He ran a hand over his head, "A bookstore owner. That's right. And I'm…?"

"My plucky young assistant." She said simply, earning a chuckle out of Joshua. There was the briefest of pauses before she said carefully, "If…if you still want to be, that is. Having the right to choose doesn't stop with Jennifer."

Joshua sighed. He appreciated the out that she always offered him, and he'd be lying if he said he never thought of taking her up on it, but he knew he wouldn't do it. Not yet anyway, "In it to win it, Ma. Besides, someone's gotta keep you in line."

Adelaide laughed, "You sassin' me, Josh?"

"I would never." Joshua replied, smiling at the phone.

"You better not be. Can't have my plucky young assistant smart mouthing me; I get enough of that from my family." Adelaide said, tone still sounding like she was smiling.

"I'll try to remember that." He smirked, shaking his head again.

There was another brief pause before Joshua said, "Goodnight, _Ms_. Adelaide."

"Goodnight, _Mr_. Joshua."

Joshua ended the call, tossing the phone onto the couch cushion next to him and rubbed his face with his hands. He didn't like lying to Holly or to Jennifer, but it was for the best.

Right?

And besides, everything would eventually come out into the light whether or not he wanted it to or whether or not he decided to force it now. He sighed has he rubbed his neck and glanced at the ceiling. It wasn't about what he wanted or what he decided to do; everything would come out in its own time. And time, for once, was on their side.

He ran his hands over his head as he stood to head for bed. This was going to be a long month.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** So...really not much happening this chapter. Next chapter should have more going on. Happy reading either way though!

Jennifer woke to the smell of bacon and coffee, which was a marked improvement to the last time she woke up a few hours earlier. She rolled over to face her left and was awake enough to register that she was surprised to find it empty.

_He must be up already_, she found herself thinking, it was only after she sat up and saw Little John curled up on the foot of the bed that she realized that Little John wasn't the "he" she'd been thinking of.

A throb threatened behind her eyes but she didn't push on it; she was still too groggy from sleep and too decaffeinated to be trying to push for more memories right now. She climbed out of bed, grabbing her dad's sweater and her cellphone as she stood and stretched. She yawned as she snapped her fingers for Little John to follow after her, pulling the sweater on over her head. He stood on the bed, and gave his own stretch and yawn in response as Jennifer opened her bedroom door, leaving it open for him as she walked out to the main floor of the shop.

She glanced at her phone, a nervous habit to make sure she didn't miss any sort of emergency in the middle of the night, and opened her text messages. She was sure Holly would be up, but she still felt nervous as she hazarded sending a text to her, asking if she was up and what her plan was for the day.

"Auntie Jen!" an excited voice squealed from the couch ahead of her as she pocketed the phone. Little John hopped onto the couch as Brielle bounced off of it, and placed his head on the armrest that would let him look into the kitchenette and survey most of the shop at the same time.

Jennifer barely had time to brace herself before Brielle had run up to her and wrapped her arms around waist. Jennifer let out an exaggerated "Oof!" as Brielle crashed into her, before leaning down and scooping Brielle up into her arms, "Oh, honey, that's too much excitement for your Auntie before she's had her coffee."

Brielle giggled at her as she wrapped her arms around Jennifer's neck, letting her purple teddy bear _thump_ gently against Jennifer's back as she walked.

Brielle kissed her cheek, "G'mornin', Auntie Jen!"

Jennifer returned the kiss on Brielle's cheek, "Good morning, Brielle."

She set Brielle back on the floor, "Did you find what I got for you?"

Brielle's eyes got wide as she shook her head. Jennifer grinned at her and led her behind the counter. From the shelf there, she grabbed the purple haired Troll doll that she'd pulled out of the box from the storage company that was still on the counter.

_"Old family treasures?"_

She let the throb come but didn't push it as she held the doll out to Brielle who stared at it in wonder. Twice in ten minutes, she noted, she must be knocking all sorts of things loose.

"What do you think?" Jennifer asked Brielle, pulling herself back to the matter at hand.

"It's beautiful." Brielle whispered, hugging the doll and her teddy bear to her. She looked up at Jennifer and beamed at her, "Thank you, Auntie!"

Jennifer grinned back and leaned down to kiss Brielle's cheek again, "You're welcome, honey. Now, where _is_ that mother of yours?"

"Making you a _damn_ fine breakfast, that's where she is," came the reply from the kitchenette.

Jennifer rolled her eyes at Brielle, who giggled at her, before saying, "Remember, Brielle, we don't swear."

"Unless it's necessary." Adelaide and Brielle said in unison as Jennifer walked into the kitchenette. Adelaide was in front of the stove working with what looked like scrambled eggs. On the counter next to her was a stack of chocolate chip waffles with peanut butter and maple syrup waiting on either side of the plate the stack rested on, a small plate with bacon piled onto it, as well as a mug waiting by the coffeepot.

Jennifer sighed exasperatedly as she held the beaded curtain open for Brielle, "No, we just don't swear. Full stop."

Adelaide smirked at her over her shoulder, "Maybe _you_ don't."

Brielle giggled as she went to sit at the table, legs swinging over the edge of the seat, and set her teddy bear and new doll in her lap.

Adelaide furrowed her brow when she noticed the addition to her daughter's collection, "Where'd you get that doll, Brielle?"

Jennifer raised a guilty hand as she poured herself a cup of coffee, "That'd be from me. Well, from the storage company. I think they made a mistake because I don't recognize _anything_ in the box on the counter, but I figured that by the time they realized their mistake and _actually_ got around to getting it back to the _right_ people, enough time would've passed that it'd end up as 'ours' anyway."

Adelaide smirked at her as she turned the stove down to low to keep the eggs warm, "You know, some people would consider that stealing."

"Well, then it's a good thing that possession is nine-tenths of the law." Jennifer replied, scrunching her nose at Adelaide. She laughed as she grabbed some plates from the cabinet and set them next to the breakfast food.

As Adelaide was reaching into a drawer to grab some silverware, Jennifer kissed her cheek, "Mornin' Cos. What's with the breakfast spread?"

Adelaide shrugged as she put the silverware on the counter and started making up plates for Brielle and herself, "Figured you could use a real breakfast."

Jennifer arched an eyebrow at her as she took a drink of her coffee, "And this wouldn't have _anything_ to do with what happened last night?"

Adelaide just smiled at her as she grabbed some of the silverware and moved around the counter towards the table with the two plates sufficiently filled with breakfast food. Over her shoulder, Adelaide said, "So, I see the sweater, but I couldn't find the mug; any particular reason why?"

Jennifer fidgeted slightly in response, "I, uh, I had a nightmare last night."

Adelaide glanced at her as she stepped around her to grab a cup for Brielle from one of the cabinets.

Jennifer's phone buzzed in her pocket as she started assembling her own plate, pointedly trying to avoid Adelaide's gaze and the question that was there. Adelaide grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured some into the green plastic cup she'd grabbed for Brielle as Jennifer opened her messages to see what Holly had said.

Adelaide glanced over to look at the phone's screen before she turned back to the fridge to put the milk away, "You thinking of spending the day with Holly?"

Jennifer shifted nervously, pocketing her phone without typing a reply, "Something like that. Why? Did you have something else in mind?"

Adelaide studied her again before grabbing the cup as well as the maple syrup and heading back to the table. Brielle grabbed the syrup from her mother as she set the cup next to her plate and dumped an unhealthy amount onto the waffles in front of her, enough so that even her eggs and bacon would have a distinctly maple flavor. Adelaide just chuckled at her as she cut into her own waffles. Jennifer grabbed the peanut butter as she came to sit across from Adelaide, her plate filled with the last of the eggs, bacon, and the last waffle.

"I never asked how dinner with Holly went." Adelaide commented, pausing in her eating to take a drink of her coffee.

Jennifer shrugged, smearing peanut butter across her waffle and pouring some maple syrup over it, "It was good. Started weird, but…actually, you know, it kind of ended a little weird too?"

Adelaide looked at her expectantly. Jennifer made an exaggerated point of glancing at Brielle in response, which only made Adelaide roll her eyes, "Jennifer, I'm sure whatever you've got to tell me will not be _that_ damaging. Besides, she's mature for her age."

Brielle grinned at Jennifer around a mouthful of waffle. Jennifer considered it a true testament to Adelaide's statement that at least Brielle didn't try to speak with her mouth full.

Jennifer sighed, shaking her head, "_Okay_, but I've got a lot to tell you."

Adelaide just smiled, "_Then_ it's a good thing I made a big breakfast."

Jennifer chuckled as she looked back down at her breakfast. She took another bite of waffle before saying, "Just. Just don't be mad."

Adelaide gave her a speculative look, "I'll try."

Jennifer nodded and told Adelaide about the memory flashes with the Voice and the throbs, about the strange encounter with Holly's "Grad school friend," about Holly telling her to push on the throbs, about what she'd remembered when Little John had been freaking out the night before, before finally telling her about remembering the Gray Gull. As she talked, she expected Adelaide to stop her, to express her annoyance at the fact that she hadn't said anything sooner, to express concern, to do _something_ but instead, Adelaide continued to eat her breakfast, a contemplative, almost calculating, look on her face. Jennifer hadn't seen that look on Adelaide's face before, at least not when _she_ was talking, and she wasn't sure what to think of it now.

"It's weird." Jennifer said, collecting the plates from the table and standing, "I have the name, I remember that as clearly as if I had read it—and I think I did? Like I can kind of remember seeing the sign for the Gray Gull?—but everything else from the initial hit that remembering the name caused is…is less?" She shook her head, unsure of whether or not she was even making sense, as she put the dishes in the sink and ran water over them, "It's like an after-image or something. The only thing that's stayed moderately clear is one of the voices I heard when it happened."

"The voice you heard before?" Adelaide asked as she stood, she crouched in front of Brielle's chair and she climbed onto her back.

Jennifer nodded as she loaded the dishwasher, "Yeah."

"The one who sounded like Aunt Holly's friend?" Brielle added, earning a surprised look from Jennifer.

Adelaide just grinned and jostled Brielle on her back, making her giggle, "Told you she was mature for her age."

Jennifer just chuckled at them as she slammed the dishwasher's door closed, starting it, "Yes, Brielle, the one who sounded like Aunt Holly's friend."

Adelaide's eyes took on a mischievous glint as she came to a realization; "You were going to ask Holly about him, weren't you? _That's_ why you texted her! You want to ask her about him!"

Jennifer shot her a glare, "You're making more of this than is actually necessary."

Adelaide pulled out her phone from her own pants pockets, being careful not to drop Brielle from her back, "Oh, I'm gonna call her right now."

"Adelaide!" Jennifer yelled at her as she hit the speaker button and the dial tone filled the space of the kitchen.

"Jennifer!" Adelaide mimicked, exaggerating Jennifer's tone.

"Adelaide, hang up that phone." Jennifer said sternly, glaring at her.

"Jennifer, this guy could help you and if Holly _knows_ him—,"

"Speak and be heard." Came the greeting from the phone.

"Holly!" Adelaide said a little too loudly and a little too cheerily.

"Adelaide!" Holly replied, "Color me surprised! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Adelaide went to answer, only to be cut off by Brielle chiming in, "Hi Aunt Holly!"

"Is that my favorite honorary niece?" Holly chirped, her voice jumping a few octaves, "How're you _doin_', you little beam of sunlight?"

"I miss you, Aunt Holly! When am I gonna see you?" Brielle called back over Adelaide's shoulder towards the phone.

"Brielle, Momma's on the phone!" Adelaide scolded Brielle.

"You can _hardly_ be mad at her; this conversation is _anything_ but private!" Jennifer interjected.

Holly laughed over the phone, "Oh, I've missed this."

Adelaide put Brielle back on the floor, "Hang on a second, Holly."

She pressed the phone into her shirt as she crouched and looked at Brielle, "Sweetness, why don't you go up and shower? Afterwards, Auntie Jen will braid your hair, how does that sound?"

Brielle's face lit up, "Okay!"

Brielle ran off towards the stairs, Adelaide and Jennifer following after her. Jennifer glanced at Little John who, once again, seemed completely unmoved by the chaos in the kitchenette. Adelaide moved the phone from her shirt, "You still there, Hol?"

"Never left, Lady," Holly replied as they started to climb the stairs, "So to _what_ do I owe this rather chaotic wake up call?"

"Well, you see, _Jennifer_ here has some questions for you," Adelaide answered as she held the phone over her shoulder towards Jennifer.

"What's goin' on, Jen?" Holly asked as Jennifer took the phone from Adelaide and as they made it into the loft. There was a light coming from the bathroom and the sound of running water. Adelaide stood next to the door and called to Brielle to make sure she was doing all right.

"Hey, Holly. Um, kind of a weird question for you, but, uh…do you remember your, uh, your 'Grad school friend' from last night? Duke?" Jennifer asked, perching on the back of the couch and facing towards the bathroom door while Adelaide went to her room to get dressed.

"Well, seeing as he's _my_ friend, I'd say yes, I remember him." Holly chuckled.

Jennifer made a face at the phone even though she knew Holly couldn't see her, "_Anyway_, I was wondering if you knew what…what some of his, um, 'business' entailed?"

"You're gonna have to be slightly more specific than that, babe." Holly prompted, "I don't know much about his 'business' but what I _do_ know needs some…classifying."

Jennifer sighed, "Has he ever…do you know if he owns a bar called 'The Gray Gull'?"

There was a pause. Adelaide came back out of her room, wearing a black romper with white polka dots and a pair of black leggings that had the design of the leg bones on them. The romper had halter straps, leaving her back and arms bear to show off her numerous tattoos that were on her shoulders, back, neck, and upper arms. She knocked on the bathroom door, and called for Brielle to tell her how she was doing just as the water shut off.

"You know," Holly said on the phone, sounding distracted, "I'm, uh, I'm not too _sure_ about that one, Jen. But, uh, y'know, Duke _is_ still in town. Why don't I just, you know, give him a _call_ and set something up for the two of you today and you can ask him all the questions you want?"

"Oh, uh, I-I don't know about—," Jennifer started to say.

"That sounds like a _great_ idea!" Adelaide interrupted enthusiastically as Brielle opened the bathroom door. She was wrapped up in a little blue bathrobe with tropical fish stitched into it and looked up at her mother as she continued, " Since her class is doing a unit on the ocean, I was thinking of taking Brielle to the Aquarium today—,"

"_Really?_" Brielle exclaimed excitedly.

"—and I was thinking, Holly, since it's been so _long_ since we've seen each other and since Josh lives right next door, that you and Josh might like to go with us?" Adelaide continued as she grinned and nodded down at Brielle.

"I'm, uh, I'm not so sure—," Jennifer tried again, surprised by Adelaide's excitement, and confused by how quickly the rest of the conversation was going.

"That sounds great!" Holly interrupted, "I'll have Duke pick me up and then we can use Joshua's car to get there!"

"Oh, this'll be so _fun!_" Adelaide beamed, "We can get lunch at—,"

"Does _anyone_ wanna hear what _I_ think?" Jennifer yelled over her, causing a shocked silence to fall on them. Brielle flinched away from Jennifer and instinctively went to hide behind her mom's leg, making Jennifer feel like the scum of the earth for scaring her.

Adelaide only paused for a moment before crouching down to Brielle's level, placing a hand on her shoulder, and quietly told her to go get dress. Brielle nodded, glancing nervously at Jennifer, and headed towards her room. Once Brielle closed her bedroom door, Adelaide turned to look at Jennifer. She was expecting some sort of Momma Bear anger to be bubbling up on Adelaide's face like it usually did when someone scared or did anything to make Brielle uncomfortable, but she was calm. If anything, she looked a little regretful.

"You're right, Jen." Adelaide said apologetically, "We were so busy making our own plans that we forgot to ask you if you were okay."

"Sorry, Jen," Holly said quietly over the phone.

Jennifer sighed and rubbed her forehead, "It's just…I barely know this guy and he kind of _freaked _me out yesterday and seemed to know more about me than _I_ knew or, hell, even _know_ about him and now I'm starting to remember these things and he may or may not be a part of what I'm remembering which is weird enough as it is because what does the hell that even _mean_ and you all seem _shockingly_ calm about that and _really_ willing to just leave me alone with this guy who could be a _stalker_ for all we know."

She had started to speak rapidly like she did when she was nervous or scared and only really breathed again once she was done.

Holly spoke first, "Jen, I know you're freaked out, but…Duke might have _answers_ for you. And I know that you're really scared that something might be wrong with your memories or you, I _know_ that, but what I _also_ know is that Duke would never do _anything_ to hurt you. Ever."

Jennifer chuckled nervously, "You seem pretty convinced. This guy _that_ good of a friend?"

"Something like that," Holly answered, her tone telling Jennifer that she was smiling.

Jennifer looked at Adelaide who was watching her carefully, "What about you? Why are _you_ so okay with this?"

Adelaide had always been protective of Jennifer. She remembered more than one instance in their childhood where Adelaide got into physical and verbal altercations with people over her. She remembered one time that Adelaide physically moved between her and a complete stranger because she _thought_ that they were trying to talk to her. Yet despite this, Adelaide had not only encouraged her to seek out the guy who freaked her out the night before, but who seemed _excited_ by the idea that she'd be spending the better part of a day with him.

Adelaide shrugged, "You were right yesterday. I've been coddling you too much since the accident, trying to keep you safe from the rest of the world. It's time you went back out there, and I think the best way to do that, is with a friend that we trust."

Jennifer quirked an eyebrow at her, "You haven't even _met_ him."

Adelaide shrugged again, "No, I haven't. But _Holly_ has, and _Holly_ trusts him, and that's enough for me."

_Since when?_ Jennifer wanted to ask, but she held back.

There was a pause as Jennifer and Adelaide regarded each other. Jennifer, looking for some sort of tell on Adelaide's part to let her know whether or not she was being truthful with her and Adelaide, looking at her like she had looked as Brielle boarded the school bus on her first day of Kindergarten: scared, but proud.

"So," Holly's voice on the phone chimed in tentatively, "is it okay if I call Duke? Get a date set up for you two?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "This is _not_ a date."

"Right." Holly said lightly on the other end of the phone, "But is it _okay_ if I call him?"

Jennifer sighed, "Yeah. It's okay."

"Great!" Holly said cheerfully, "I'll see you guys in a couple of hours! Bye!"

"Bye, Holly," Adelaide and Jennifer said together.

Jennifer hit the button and handed the phone back to Adelaide. She stood from the back of the couch, as Adelaide pocketed the phone, and gestured behind her towards the stairs, "I should…I should go figure out what I'm going to wear."

Adelaide grinned at her, "Worried about your date?"

Jennifer made a face at her, "It's _not_ a date."

Adelaide just chuckled after her as she headed down the stairs. Little John looked at her as she reached the bottom, tail thumping gently against the couch.

She rolled her eyes at him as she walked to her room. Once there, she immediately shed her pajamas and changed into clean underwear and a tank top. She started rummaging through her tiny closet, pulling out her favorite outfits and placing them on the bed. She surveyed them, picking one up and then another, holding them in front of her as she stood before mirror that hung from her closet door.

Nothing looked right.

Why was she even putting _this_ much thought into her outfit? What did _she_ care what some stranger thought of her? A stranger, she reminded herself, who most likely had a criminal record, or, at the very least, whose business ventures were _less_ than reputable. She sighed at her reflection, fidgeting with a dress that she was holding against herself. That was just the thing, though. She _did_ care. The small part of her from the night before, that had apparently grown a _lot_ stronger with the recent revelations, seemed to care a _lot _about how she looked and about what he would think of her. In all honesty, it was actually a little obnoxious just how much it was trying to make sure that she knew how _much_ it cared. It made her want him to look at her like he had last night; like she was the most beautiful, amazing, _important_ thing that he'd ever seen.

Adelaide leaned against her doorframe; smirking at her as she tossed away the dress she'd been debating on and grabbed a different one from the bed. Adelaide had done the long part of her hair up into a black bandana with white skulls on it so that her hair curled before disappearing underneath the bandana, making her look like a pin-up model, and had grabbed a black leather jacket to wear over her romper. She adjusted her glasses at Jennifer, "Having trouble deciding on an outfit for your date?"

"It's _not_ a date!" Jennifer nearly yelled exasperatedly.

Adelaide arched an eyebrow at her, "Then you're _not_ wearing your 'date night' push-up bra?"

Jennifer glared at her, even as she blushed, "Maybe."

Adelaide chuckled back, "Any particular reason _why_ you're having trouble figuring out what to wear?"

Jennifer sighed, tossing the second dress she'd grabbed back onto the bed, and gestured emphatically as she spoke, "Adelaide, you didn't see how he _looked_ at me. He just…he _looked _at me like I was…like I was something…and Jesus you should _see_ this guy. He's like…_god_ I don't think I've ever _actually_ met someone _this_ attractive in the real world. He's like fit but lean and he's so _tall _and—,"

Adelaide smiled knowingly at her, "And you want him to think that you're just as attractive as you think he is?"

"Yes. No! Maybe?" Jennifer stammered before she turned around and fell dramatically face first onto her bed. She groaned into her mattress, "I don't _know_."

Jennifer felt ridiculous for feeling and acting like she was. It reminded her, vaguely, of how Holly had been in high school just before a date; all dramatic flailing and grand statements about nothing being right. Adelaide laughed at her as she walked into the room. She surveyed the clothes spread around on Jennifer's bed, "And none of your favorite clothes look right?"

Jennifer groaned again, not really using words but attempting to make it sound closer to the affirmative.

"Do you just want _me_ to choose something for you?"

Another groan, also within the realm of the affirmative.

From the pile of clothes around Jennifer, Adelaide pulled a navy blue dress with orange and yellow flowers printed on it out from under Jennifer and placed it on top of her. She grabbed a pair of gray knee high socks, her taupe wedges, and a jean jacket with gray cotton sleeves and a hood, and stacked them all on top of the dress on Jennifer who seemed remarkably unmoved by the stack of clothing on her back.

"Here you go. One perfect, 'not-date' outfit, hand chosen by your _infinitely_ wise cousin." Adelaide said, before smacking Jennifer on the ass, earning a disapproving yelp from her into the mattress, which only made Adelaide giggle.

Jennifer rolled her head and glared at her, "Wise _ass_, more like."

Adelaide made a face at her, earning a similar face from Jennifer, before chuckling at her.

"You better wrap up this pity-panic-party soon, though," Adelaide said over her shoulder as she moved to walk back out to the main floor of the shop, "you've got a second cousin who is _dying_ to have her hair braided by her favorite Auntie."

"Adelaide?" Jennifer called after her before she was out of earshot.

Adelaide paused and turned back to Jennifer, eyebrows raised, and her expression a question mark.

"What do I…I mean," Jennifer started, sitting up and starting to get dressed. She sighed as she zipped up the dress, "What do I do if I start to get another throb? The last time I did it, I was sitting down but if I had been _standing_…"

She tried to smile at Adelaide, "I very well can't just _pass out_ on him, you know?"

Adelaide smirked at her briefly before her expression turned serious, "No, you can't. Look, Jen, I want you to remember just as badly as you and Holly do, but if you keep _pushing_ like that, you're going to do more harm than good."

Jennifer smirked, "Oh, what, suddenly you're a neurologist?"

Adelaide made a face at Jennifer again, "Well, if _you _spent the better part of a year worrying that your cousin's head wound was going to suddenly take a turn for the worst, _you'd_ start to familiarize yourself with the finer workings of the brain too."

Jennifer smiled sadly at her. Adelaide had been so hyper-protective of her since the accident, and especially since she moved in. Jennifer didn't blame her, though, even if it was a bit stifling at times; she knew that they were all the other had left of their family. Jennifer sat on the bed and pulled on her knee high socks, "So what _do_ you think I should do?"

Adelaide sighed, "For now? Just try to note when the throbs happen, and then tell me about them. I'll help you through them."

Jennifer gave her a confused look as she pulled on the jacket, "How?"

Adelaide studied her for a moment and then told her to lie down on the bed. Jennifer gave her a speculative look, but complied.

"Close your eyes."

Jennifer did, though she made a crack about not knowing her cousin was also a hypnotist. Adelaide, ignoring the joke, told her to relax, to slow her breathing, and to only listen to the sound of her voice. Just as Jennifer felt as if she was going to slip into sleep, Adelaide changed her instructions.

"I want you to picture, in your mind, a hallway of doors." _Doors again_, a quiet voice sighed in Jennifer's mind, as Adelaide continued, "Let it stretch out into infinity before you. Behind these doors are your memories. I want you to tell me what the first doors you see look like."

She told Adelaide that they looked like the front door of her childhood home, if not a little bit more worn.

"Okay, you're doing great, Jen. Now, I want you to open the first one you see, and tell me what's there."

In her mind, Jennifer opened one of the doors. Behind it was one of the first times her mother had told her about appreciating the little things. She saw the kitchen of her childhood home, washed in golden light from the late afternoon sun, she saw her mother at the kitchen sink, and her father sweeping through, leaving nothing but joy in his wake. It was a memory of such profound love and happiness that Jennifer wasn't sure she wanted to leave it; it felt so safe.

She told Adelaide all of these things.

"That's good," Adelaide replied, "That's really good, Jen. I know you don't want to, but let's close that door—just for now—and walk down the hallway a bit to some of the more recent doors, okay?"

"Okay," Jennifer said sleepily.

"What do the doors look like now, Jen?"

"Battered." She said, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "Some of them look…they look like the doors on a ship. Some have boards on them, like someone's trying to keep something from getting out."

"Or some_one_ from getting _in_." Adelaide said quietly next to her.

"My head hurts when I look at them." Jennifer whimpered.

"Okay." Adelaide soothed, "Okay, let's look at some of the other doors. Do any of them _not_ have boards on them?"

Jennifer paused as she surveyed the doors in her mind, "One of them. It looks like the entrance to _The Globe_. And it's…it's like someone only recently pulled the boards off."

"Can you try the handle?"

Jennifer did, only to be met with resistance. A throb had started behind her eyes, but it was weaker than any of the others she'd felt before. She told this to Adelaide.

"Okay, that's good, Jen, that's really good. Do you think you could _pull_ the door open?"

Jennifer nodded, "I think so."

"Okay. If it starts to hurt, tell me, and we'll stop, alright?"

Jennifer nodded again.

"Okay. Then go ahead and pull on it."

In her mind, Jennifer grabbed the handle of the door and pulled as hard as she could on it. The door fought her at first, but after another solid tug, it fell open.

She was at her desk at _The Globe_, when suddenly she heard the Voice call out for someone named "Audrey." She leapt to her feet to try to see what the problem was, but no one around her had heard what she had. The Voice kept yelling, calling for "Audrey," talking about how "The Barn" was collapsing. There were other voices now too, talking about the way to end something called "the Troubles," and someone named Agent Howard. The voices were loud and saying the same things over and over again, and she felt panicky and scared. She had gone to the hospital, and they had run test after test on her. She was in a hospital room and she was alone. Where was Adelaide? She felt terrifying alone as one of the doctors finally asked her about a history of mental illness in her family.

"I'm not crazy." She had said defiantly, but even as she had, her resolve wavered. _Where's Adelaide?_ Her present self kept asking as she watched the memory. The doctor gave her a pitying look and told her that there were plenty of options for seeking psychiatric help, but a panic had set in on Jennifer and she just kept repeating, "I'm not crazy, I'm _not_ crazy, I'm not _crazy_."

Someone touched her shoulder, and a different voice called out to her, "Jennifer! Jennifer wake up! Jennifer come back, it's okay!"

The memory fell away and Jennifer opened her eyes to see Adelaide standing over her and looking scared. Adelaide tried to smile at her, relief clear in her eyes, "Hey! Hey, there she is."

Jennifer sat up carefully, Adelaide hovering around her and whispering, "Easy, easy."

Jennifer looked at Adelaide, "What happened? Did I do anything?"

Adelaide stroked her hair, "You kept mumbling, 'I'm not crazy' over and over again, getting louder each time. What happened? How do you feel?"

Jennifer paused, taking an internal stock of herself before she shook her head, "I…I feel…well I mean, I feel a little shaken up, but I feel _good_. I think this is the best I've felt all year."

Adelaide's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Well, what did you remember?"

Jennifer told her about the voices and the hospital, looking at Adelaide in confusion, "You weren't there. I was in the hospital, alone, and you weren't there—I don't…I don't even think I _thought_ of you—but that—that can't be _right_."

Adelaide didn't say anything for a terrifying moment, long enough for Jennifer to wonder if maybe her memory_ was_ right, before Adelaide finally said, "You're not alone _now_, Jen. I'm with you _now._"

Jennifer only felt slightly reassured by that.

_But what about _then_?_ She wondered, a quiet uneasiness settling in her stomach as she and Adelaide studied each other for another moment. Adelaide eventually asked, "What else, Jen?"

Jennifer let out a shaking breath and refocused on the memory again, before realizing there'd ben another inconsistency, "It…I think I remember it as the same day—hell even the same _time_—as when I had the sailing accident. How can…how can that _be_?"

Adelaide shook her head, "I dunno, Cos." She held Jennifer's face in her hands for a moment, "But we'll keep working on those doors, okay? We'll figure this out."

Jennifer placed her hand over Adelaide's, grounding herself. Adelaide was right; she was here _now_ and that had to mean something, right? Jennifer smiled up at her, "Thank you."

Adelaide just grinned at her, tapping her thumbs against her cheeks, "What's family for, if not helping you recover previously hidden away memories?"

Jennifer chuckled weakly at her as a voice from the front of the shop called, "Auntie Jen? Are you still gonna braid my hair?"

Adelaide turned back to the door, letting go of Jennifer's face, and called out, "She's comin', Sweetness, just give her a couple more minutes."

She looked back at Jennifer, "Go ahead and do your hair and makeup, or whatever else you need; I think I can keep her distracted long enough to give you that much."

Jennifer smiled appreciatively at her, "Thank you, Adelaide. For everything."

Adelaide just waved her off as she walked out to the main floor of the shop, mumbling, "Don't thank me yet, Jen; we still don't know what it is that you're going to remember."

* * *

><p>Duke was up just before the sun rose. Sleep had fought him every step of the way, and when he <em>had<em> slept, every creak of the Rouge had him awake again, thinking that maybe it was Jennifer. When he would force that thought away, the thought of it being whoever it was that had taken her things from the Rouge would pop up, setting him back into attack-mode and setting sleep even further off. When that would happen, he'd stalk around the stateroom, rechecking every spot that he'd previously checked for any sort of bug or wire. From there, he would clean. He knew it was ridiculous to think that Jennifer would come home so soon, but he couldn't help it; what if she _did_ come home? And she saw the Rouge like that? He'd never hear the end of it.

_"I've never known a Businessman to be so negligent of his place of business."_ He could almost hear her saying.

_"Well you're the one always saying that I'm not like anyone else you've ever met; I'm just trying to keep the trend going."_

_"You realize that wasn't a _challenge_ right?"_

He'd pushed those thoughts away, knowing that thinking about that wasn't going to help him, or her, and focused on whatever task he'd given himself.

When he'd reached a calmer state of mind, he'd try to go to sleep again, only to repeat the process all over again. After a few hours of that, Duke gave up and went on deck to do his yoga, trying a more reliable way to calm his mind.

Just as he'd finished, and was heading back below to shower, his phone rang. He was surprised to see that it was Holly; a slight panic hit him as he tried to think of what she could be calling about.

"Holly?" He answered.

"Duke!" She nearly yelled into his ear. She sounded excited which only made him more nervous, "What are you doing today?"

"Uh—," Duke started to answer, only to be immediately cut off by Holly.

"Well you're not doing that—Jennifer wants to see you."

Duke froze in the middle of the stateroom, the words echoing around him.

_Jennifer wants to see you._

"She does?" he asked, disbelief heavy in his voice, "She…she wants to see me?"

"Yeah!" Holly chirped on the other side of the line, her excitement practically palpable through the phone.

"Sunshine, if this is you're idea of a _joke_…" Duke started, meaning to sound threatening, but he was already smiling.

"Sailor, I don't know _what_ kind of girl you take me for, but I'm not so cruel as to joke about _this_ with you." Holly said, also trying to sound serious, but the trill in her voice told him she was still smiling.

"Did…did she actually _ask_ for me?" Duke asked, going to sit on his bed.

"Well, see, that's where I came in." Holly explained, her tone staying light even as it became cautious, "She—well, Adelaide—that's her cousin—or at least, who my memories _say_ is her cousin; but you know all that-anyway—Adelaide called me and Jennifer asked about you and whether or not you owned a bar called 'The Gray Gull'—,"

"Ah, so she remembered my _bar_, not _me_." Duke chuckled humorlessly.

_She remembers the bar, but not_ us.

"Pull in that self-loathing, son, we don't have time for it." Holly warned, still speaking rapidly, "Besides, I don't _know_ what she does and doesn't remember. She _must_ remember, though, that there's _some_ sort of connection between the Gull and you, otherwise she wouldn't've asked about _you._"

Duke sighed, "It's the little things, right?"

Holly chuckled lightly over the phone, "That's right. So here's the plan; you're going to come and pick me up, and then we're going to the bookshop—you _do_ know how to get to the shop from the Fairmount, right?"

Duke grinned at the phone, "I'm not sure I like what you're implying."

Holly laughed, "Oh don't _even_. How long was it after you left the bar before you were parked outside of the shop, 'just checking' on the place? Twenty minutes? Ten?"

Duke shifted on the bed, "You're terrifying."

Holly laughed again, "It's been said. Anyway, once we're at the shop, we'll meet up with Jen, Adelaide, and my little brother, Joshua—,"

"I didn't know you had a brother." Duke interjected, standing from his bed and pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he started to rummage through what was left of his clean clothing; he really needed to find a Laundromat soon. He sniffed at a shirt before making a face at it and throwing it to the side as he continued, "Well, truth be told, I didn't know Jennifer had a cousin until this bullshit happened, but that's a whole other issue."

"Eh," Holly said dismissively, "we'll cross that bridge when we come more clearly to it. Besides, more often than not, Josh doesn't really come up," Holly said dismissively, "I mean, we don't have an _awful_ relationship, but we've always just been kind of independent of each other, you know?"

Duke sighed, "Yeah. Yeah I know."

"I don't know what he'll know or remember about the last year, though," Holly said nervously, "so just…just be careful what you disclose around him. He's a good kid, though. Quiet. Too snarky for his own good."

"_No._ Where could he have gotten _that_ from?" Duke gasped, playing up his disbelief.

"Ha. Ha ha." Holly laughed sarcastically on the other side of the line; "_Anyway_ Adelaide invited Joshua and me to go to the Aquarium with her and her daughter, Brielle. We'll probably be gone most of the day, so that'll give you and Jennifer a chance to talk. That is, of course, unless you wanted to go to the Aquarium _with_ us? Maybe revisit your friends in the seal tank?"

Duke sighed, "You're going to make regret telling you about that, aren't you?"

"Me? Make you regret telling me something? I'm _offended_." She said indignantly on the other side of the line.

Duke rolled his eyes and chuckled despite himself, "Right. Well I'm gonna have to pass on that; I don't know if I want to risk testing whether or not my life long ban from there is still intact."

Holly laughed at him, "Ah, well I guess you and Jennifer will just have to spend the _whole_ day together, talking."

Duke nodded as he threw clean clothes on his mattress and then sighed, "Right. Talking."

Holly sighed back on the other side of the line, "Listen, Duke, I know it's not _much_ and it's not what you _want_ but—,"

"Oh and _you_ know what _I_ want?" Duke snapped, all the agitation he'd wanted to use against the people who had broken onto his boat finally coming through. It wasn't fair, and even before Holly responded, he regretted his lack of control over his anger.

"Don't you _dare_ get snappish at me, Crocker." Holly snapped back, meeting his venom with her own, "I _know_ you're frustrated _and_ I _know_ that all you want is Jennifer back, but getting pissy with me _will not_ get her back to you any faster, do you hear me."

Duke let out a slow breath, trying to reign back in his anger. Once again, Holly was right. She had an annoying habit of doing that lately. Duke told her as such, earning a slight chuckle out of her. There was a pause before Duke said, "Someone…someone came onto the Rouge last night."

Holly stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"They…they took her things." Duke said carefully, rubbing his face with his free hand, "I had put them all in her room, and I had locked the door, just to…ah hell, I don't know, keep them safe? And I came back last night and it…it was all just _gone._"

"Shit." Holly mumbled over the line.

Duke coughed on a laugh, "Yeah. There weren't any signs of the lock being picked, either, but the door was locked by the time I got there; _exactly_ how I left it. So, assuming whoever took Jennifer's things last night is the same people who took _her_, they _clearly_ know that I'm here, and I don't think they're all that afraid of me."

"Well they should be." Holly said simply on the other side of the line.

Duke chuckled, "You don't know the half of it, Sunshine."

There was a brief pause, though it was long enough to make Duke wonder if Holly had some sort of inkling towards what his comment implied before Holly said, "Okay. You go get ready. I'll see you in about an hour. And _try_ to look like a human being."

Duke shook his head, "You know, you keep telling me to do that. I mean, last night I understand; I looked like hell. But don't you think I would've tried to keep it up into the next day?"

"People in mourning don't usually pay that much attention to their appearance." Holly said matter-of-factly, "Sometimes they need reminding."

"But Holly, I'm not _in_—,"

"Don't." Holly warned, "I am _not_ the person to lie to about this. I've seen enough mourning to know what it looks like."

Duke stayed quiet before Holly sighed, "But _that_ is a conversation for another time. I'll see you soon. Bye, Duke."

"Bye, Holly." He mumbled back, not sure if she heard him before the call ended. He headed for his shower, as he tried to process what Holly had told him.

A day.

He was going to spend a _whole day_ with Jennifer. He almost felt foolish for being as excited as he was at the prospect. But he _was_. He felt like a teenager getting ready for his first date. A whole day of her being near him, talking to him, laughing at him, and a whole day of hearing her voice and laugh again, and a whole day just existing near her. A year ago, he would've given anything he had just to _see _her again, let alone spend the better part of a _day_ with her, and here he was, about to do just that.

And she _wanted_ to see him. She _wanted_ to spend that much time with him, even if she didn't know him.

It wasn't the same as wanting _him_, but it was one hell of a start.

Once out of the shower, he got dress, putting on the pale blue, almost white, denim button down that he'd worn when he'd first met Jennifer and a pair of gray jeans. It was also the shirt she'd put on to greet him in the stateroom after their first time together.

_"I'm an idiot." "Mm-hm."_

He didn't know if seeing the shirt would spark any memories in Jennifer, but he also figured that it couldn't hurt. He rummaged through one of his drawers, and pulled out a small bottle of cologne. Jennifer had given it to him, and she had told him that she loved how it smelled. He had worn it all the time, joking about how he thought it was part of the reason she couldn't keep her hands off him. He remembered that scent was supposed to be a powerful memory inducer. If the shirt didn't do anything, maybe the cologne would.

He looked himself over in the mirror, pushing his hair back. He still had dark circles under his eyes, but at least he didn't look as deranged as he had last night.

He shrugged at himself, "Closer to human."

And that's about all Holly could ask for.

He grabbed a To Go cup for what was left of his coffee, before heading back on deck, locking the doors to the stateroom behind him. Even though locks clearly didn't stop whoever it was that took her things from his boat, it didn't mean he had to go and make it easier for them.

The drive to the Fairmount was short, and Holly was already waiting for him by the front doors. She was wearing her jean jacket from the night before, over a brown blouse with mint and pink flowers printed on it, over a pair of light blue skinny jeans that matched her jacket, large sunglasses obscuring her eyes. Her headscarf for the day was a similar mint to some of the flowers on her shirt, with light brown and pink patterns printed on it.

He rolled his window down and grinned at her, "You headed my way, Sunshine?"

She grinned at him as she leaned through the window, pushing her sunglasses up onto her forehead a little, "Is there any other way to go, Sailor?"

He rolled his eyes at her, "Hop in."

She walked around to the other side of the truck and climbed in. As Duke drove towards the bookshop, Holly looked around the truck, noting how the driver's seat was on the right, rather than left side of the car.

"A foreign truck? Don't you do _anything_ normally?" Holly asked leaning back into the passenger seat.

Duke shrugged, "Makes it easier to drive my own truck when I travel elsewhere."

Holly smirked at him, "Oh, what, no snappy comeback about nothing about you being 'normal'?"

He smiled at her as he parked the truck outside the shop, "I guess my mind's elsewhere."

Duke looked into the shop and saw Jennifer immediately. She was sitting on an old couch that was opposite the front counter. She was wearing a jacket that had a denim body and gray cotton sleeves. She had two tendrils of hair hanging on either side of her face, while the top layer was twist braided and pinned on the back of her head; he saw orange flowers there, probably fabric, and attached to whatever she was using to pin her hair back. Her hair was longer than he remembered it being, though last night he hadn't really been paying attention to hair length. Her mouth was moving, more obviously singing this time, and she was looking down in front of her while her hands were working on something that he couldn't see.

She was still there.

There was something revolutionary in that thought. She hadn't disappeared in the time between he'd last seen her and this moment.

_"Everyday I wake up and I think: This is the day I'm going to lose her."_

Something caught her attention and she looked up towards the counter. Whatever it was, it made her grin and laugh, and Duke couldn't help but smile with her. God, it'd been a year and nothing made him feel as…as _calm_ as seeing her smile.

Holly patted his arm, pulling his gaze back to her, "Everything's gonna be fine, Duke. Just be your usual, charming, incredibly annoying, and obnoxious self. You know, the man that Jennifer fell for."

Duke chuckled at her, "You think I'm charming?"

Holly rolled her eyes, "No, _I_ think you're an obnoxious pain in the ass. _Jennifer_ thinks your charming."

She hopped out of the truck and headed across the street. Duke followed suit, chuckling after her, just as he heard Holly squeal excitedly, "Joshua!"

As Duke rounded the front of the truck and headed across the street, he saw Holly breaking an embrace with a young man that he assumed was her younger brother. She held onto his forearms as she beamed at him and spoke excitedly. The man had a buzzed head, and was wearing a black pea coat over a red flannel shirt. He looked pleased to see Holly, but he also looked dazed by how quickly she was talking to him, a feeling that Duke was fairly familiar with at this point.

"Slow down, Holly, the kid looks like he's barely keeping up," Duke chuckled as he came to stand next to Holly.

Holly glanced at Duke and made a face at him, "Oh, hush, he's my _brother_, he's used to it."

"True." Joshua yawned, "But I haven't been up as long as you have, Sis."

Holly rolled her eyes, "Staying up late playing those damn video games, I bet."

Joshua made a face, half sneering and sticking his tongue out slightly, at Holly who made a similar face back at him. It was the face that Duke had frequently been on the receiving end of when Jennifer was with him. Joshua directed his gaze to Duke and smiled, "Hi, I'm Joshua, Holly's brother."

"Oh man, where're my manners?" Holly exclaimed, turning to Duke who held out his hand to Joshua, "Sorry! Duke, this is Josh, my brother, obviously. Josh, this is Duke. He's, uh—,"

"The, uh, the transporter, right?" Joshua asked, finishing for Holly as he accepted Duke's offered hand and gave it a solid shake.

Duke's eyebrow twitched in surprise, but he was better at hiding it than Holly was, as she stammered out, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's right."

Joshua smiled at him, "Good to finally meet you, Duke."

Duke nodded, pulling his hand back and putting it in his pocket, and looked Joshua up and down. He was just a kid, and a tired looking one at that; but how close to home could the other side be playing? Joshua watched him back, still smiling at him, and seeming to be either completely unaware of his slip, truly excited to meet Duke and see his sister again, or be a better player than Duke was giving him credit for. For now, Duke just placed Joshua in his "To Watch" list.

Joshua looked at his sister, "Well, shall we go in? I know of a very impatient six year old, who's ready to see her Aunt Holly."

Holly beamed back at him, "After you."

* * *

><p>"When did Holly say she was going to get here?" Jennifer called to Adelaide in the kitchenette as she worked on braiding Brielle's hair, wrapping a hair tie around the left braid. Brielle was sitting on the floor in front of the couch between Jennifer's legs and was reading a small chapter book about seals. Little John twitched in his sleep on the rest of the couch, whimpering quietly. She glanced at him briefly and placed a hand on his stomach; he calmed almost instantly and shifted slightly next to her.<p>

"She should be here soon," Adelaide said from the kitchenette, "Getting nervous about you're date?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes as Adelaide stepped back out to the main floor of the shop, she started on the right side of Brielle's head for the second braid, "For the _last_ time, it is _not_—,"

"Save it; I was kidding." Adelaide cut her off, moving to behind the counter, "You know, Momma Caverna's café down the street has the best food on the block; why don't you two go there for lunch?"

Jennifer smiled nervously, "I guess that'd be okay. Maybe we could walk around the Paul Revere Mall afterwards."

Adelaide gave her a knowing smile before disappearing as she crouched down to look on the shelves.

"What am I smelling? Is it that 'sensual amber' perfume from that body shop? I didn't think you liked that stuff." Adelaide's voice called from behind the counter.

Jennifer shrugged, "It's not my _favorite_ but it…I dunno, it just felt like the right perfume for today, y'know?"

Soon, an up-tempo song began to play through the speakers around the shop. Brielle looked up and let out an excited sound, distracting from any response Adelaide could've given.

"I love this song!" She said before turning her head slightly to look at Jennifer, "Will you sing it?"

Jennifer beamed back at her as Adelaide popped back up from behind the counter, "I _will_, but you've _got_ to keep looking forward, okay? French braided pigtails take time."

"Yeah, Brielle, didn't I ever tell you that Auntie Jen was the _best_ hair braider in grade school? This is serious business." Adelaide quipped, leaning against the counter.

Brielle grinned at Jennifer, who was making the face she'd learned from Holly at Adelaide, before looking back at her book. Jennifer went back to working on her second braid and sang quietly, "_We go hide away in day light…_"

Adelaide picked through some of the stuff in the box on the counter as Jennifer continued to sing. Jennifer noticed a pale truck pull up across the street; was that the same pale truck from last night?

After a moment Adelaide got a sly smile on her face and leaned over the box, obscuring her face. Jennifer glanced at her, still singing, when Adelaide stood back up straight, wearing a ridiculous mask from the box.

Jennifer laughed as the song died out, "Oh good _god_, what is _in_ that box?"

The doors to the truck across the street opened and Holly hopped out of it, slamming the door behind her. Little John's head popped up at the sound of the doors slamming closed. He placed his head on the armrest and looked towards the street, his tail thumping gently against the cushion next to her.

Adelaide shook her head as she pulled the mask away and tossed it back into the box, "I have _no_ idea. But it's certainly a strange collection of things. Did you see this book?" Adelaide held up _Unstake My Heart_ for Jennifer to see, "I haven't seen a copy of this in _years_; especially not in this condition. What about you?"

Jennifer shrugged, "Never really paid much attention to vampire romance,"

Adelaide looked at the book, "So you don't see anything on this book?"

Jennifer gave her a confused look, "Am I supposed to?"

Adelaide shrugged, tossing the book back onto the counter, as Jennifer finished Brielle's second and final braid and jiggled them like they were the reins for a horse. Brielle looked back at Jennifer who grinned at her, "Congratulations, Brielle, you are now the proud owner of two Jennifer Mason Original braids!"  
>Brielle leapt to her feet as she spun around and wrapped her arms around Jennifer's neck, "Thank you, Auntie Jen!"<p>

Jennifer hugged her back and glanced towards the street as Holly and Joshua hugged. Duke stood just to the side, smiling at both of them. He looked more assembled than he had last night, but still not well rested. He reminded her of how her mom had looked during one of the first times Jennifer had convinced her to go out after Dad had died; exhausted, and a disheveled that only came from the kind of disconnect felt after a great loss, but still willing to try.

He still had dark circles under his eyes, but there'd been some sort of peace granted to him in the last twenty-four hours that made him more relaxed. He looked calmer and Jennifer couldn't help feeling calmer by extension.

As Brielle broke the hug and ran to Adelaide to show her the braids, Little John climbed off the couch and stretched. He kept his gaze towards the street, his tail wagging more quickly than it had before as he watched the group outside. Jennifer stood and stretched as well, as another song started to play, earning a grin from Jennifer.

"Oh I _love_ this song!" Jennifer exclaimed, "_We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea._"

Jennifer started to dance slightly as she sang, and the door jingled open as she sang the second lyric, "_But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be._"

"Aunt Holly!" Brielle exclaimed, running to the door and into Holly's arms.

Holly scooped up Brielle, exclaiming, "Oh, _there's_ my sweet little Brielle!"

Duke stepped to the side, allowing Joshua through. Unfortunately, this opened him up for Little John, who jumped enthusiastically straight from the couch on to Duke, knocking him to the ground.

"Oh, Jesus!" Duke exclaimed breathlessly as he fell. Little John started enthusiastically licking his face.

"Oh my god! _Little John!_" Jennifer yelled, running over and wrapping her arms around his middle and pulling him off, "No! _Bad_ dog, Little John! _Off!_"

Little John backed off, whining quietly, as Jennifer pulled him off and snapped her fingers to point him back towards her room, saying sternly, "_Get._"

Little John trotted off, tail between his legs, as Jennifer turned back to Duke offering her hand, "I am _so_ sorry. He has _never_ done that before."

Duke tried to smile at her as he took her hand, "Don't worry about it, I always was a dog person."

"Oh, I am _so_ ready to make a joke about Little John recognizing his own kind," Holly said from behind the counter, Brielle still on her hip.

Duke mockingly sneered back at her from the floor, making Holly chuckle at him, as Jennifer smiled back at him and she pulled him up. Duke tried not to stare at her as he straightened himself out and made sure not to hold her hand any longer than would be considered normal. But, gods, he'd forgotten what her hands felt like in his; small and delicate but with a strength in them, just like her. She was wearing knee-high socks; something that, when they'd been together, usually drove him _crazy_ with want for her. And, oh Christ, he could smell her perfume. It was his favorite perfume she owned, it smelled like vanilla and…well, _warmth_ was the only other word he could think of that could truly describe it.

Warm and sweet.

Just like her.

Was she _sure_ she didn't remember him?

"Here, let me get you something to wipe your face; I'm no stranger to Little John's affection." Jennifer was saying to him, gesturing towards the kitchenette. He was looking at her like he couldn't really believe she was real, making her feel unsure of herself. She could already smell his cologne; it was the same that she'd smelled on her dad's sweater last night.

What did that _mean_?

And it still made her feel what she had last night; warmth, safety, trust, and that promise again, _"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."_

Goddammit, what did _that_ mean?

Once in the kitchenette, she grabbed a washcloth from a drawer and ran water over it, saying over her shoulder, "I'm _really_ sorry about him. He's been acting strange, lately; must be something in the water."

"It's, uh, it's really not that big of a deal. I've, uh, I've had dates that've gone about the same way," Duke tried to joke.

She let out a chuckle as she turned and handed him the washcloth. Duke smiled at her as he wiped his face looking around the small kitchenette. The sink was directly opposite the door to shop, with a small amount of counter space in between it and the stove, which was next to the fridge. The counter wrapped around slightly, with cabinets coming from the ceiling, creating a divide between the kitchen space and the small dining area that'd been set up. There was a microwave and a coffee machine against the far wall on the counter, just next to the sink, and there was a wire-shelving unit packed with food against the wall next to the fridge. On the other side of the counter was a medium sized table, something that would easily fit more than just the three residents of the shop, with an odd assemblage of mismatched chairs to accompany it.

It was small but homey.

Exactly the kind of place Jennifer would love.

"So. A Great Dane, huh?" Duke asked, as Jennifer leaned against the counter.

She let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah, I know. I'll tell you one thing, though, no one messes with the five-one woman walking with _that_ behemoth on a leash."

Duke laughed, "I'll bet. Now, 'Little John'; did you just think that naming him 'little' was hilarious or…?"

She blushed and giggled, "Well, that was part of it."

He'd forgotten that. How her cheeks and the tips of her ears would turn pink when she'd blush, and that it would make her smile that much brighter, that much warmer.

God and her _laugh_.

"My, uh, my parents' first date was to see the Disney version of _Robin Hood_. That movie was kind of my whole childhood, so I guess I named him 'Little John' just to pay homage to that." Jennifer said, cross her arms and rubbing her upper arms nervously, making Duke smile at her, trying to be reassuring.

His eyes were so much kinder when he smiled.

"How long have you had him?" Duke asked.

Jennifer tilted her head, doing mental math to try to remember how long she'd had Little John, "Oh, um…hm. It's got to be a little over five years? Maybe six?"

Duke nodded.

"You know, getting a dog had actually been Adelaide's idea." Jennifer said, feeling as if she needed to keep talking to fight off an awkward silence where it was just them looking at each other. Or, rather, _him_ looking at _her_, "She was worried about me after my mom died—cancer, before you ask—so she convinced me to go with her to a friend of hers who breeds Great Danes—'just to look' she'd said—and the second that little six week old puppy came bounding up to me on paws too big for him…well it was love at first sight."

Duke smiled at her as she paused, still smiling at the memory. She always talked over herself when she told personal stories, always injecting more details into them as she talked. He'd missed that. She shifted against the counter and held her hand out to take the washcloth from him, sighing on the first word of her sentence, "Unfortunately, all that love comes with slobbery kisses, and dog hair on _all_ of my outfits."

He handed the washcloth back to her, their fingers brushing each other lightly. Jennifer straightened slightly, a blush flashing across her face and she looked up at him. God, he was _tall_. He gave her a nervous, though attempting to be reassuring, smile.

She knew that smile.

She _remembered_ that smile

They were at the Gray Gull, and she was going for a job interview somewhere but she wanted his advice.

_"I'm really glad you're doing this."_

_"Earning rent money?"_

_"Staying in—,"_

There wasn't a throb this time; it was just a memory that played through her mind, with all the emotions she'd felt at the time. It felt real and it felt natural, even if it still felt as if someone had gone through and cut out parts of what'd been said. She bit her lip anxiously, and tried to return his smile, as her stomach and heart leapt and twisted together. She turned back around and rinsed the washcloth in the sink, trying to calm the knot her stomach and heart had created down.

"You, uh," He was saying behind her, sounding nervous, "You look fantastic."

She straightened her back, smiling down at her hands as she let washcloth hang from the edge of the sink.

"You always say that." She said without thinking.

"What?" Duke said behind her, sounding surprised but hopeful.

She froze as she realized what she'd said, and turned to look at him. They stared at each other before Adelaide called out, "What're you two _doing_ in there? I thought Little John only got his face!"

Jennifer blushed harder and rushed passed Duke, avoiding his gaze, back onto the main floor of the shop. Duke moved to grab her arm, to slow her down, but thought better of it at the last second. He pulled his arm back and tried to play it off as something else; he knew this song and dance with her, it had just been so long since he'd done it. He sighed at himself before following after her to the main floor of the shop.

Joshua and the little girl who'd hugged Holly earlier—Brielle, if he'd heard right—were sitting on the couch as she showed him her book, while Holly leaned on her elbows across the counter to smile knowingly at him as he came through the curtain. The woman in the leather jacket, who he assumed was Adelaide, was giving the same smile to Jennifer as she stood opposite Holly at the counter. Jennifer glared at the both of them as she leaned down to rummaged under the counter in front of Adelaide to pull out her purse.

"You two heading out?" Adelaide asked, still looking supremely pleased with herself, "And before I've even been properly introduced to this young man?"

Holly laughed as Jennifer stood holding her purse, still blushing deeply, and introduced Adelaide and Duke, "Lady, this is Duke, my Grad school friend. Duke, this is Adelaide, Jennifer's cousin."

Adelaide held her hand out to him, grinning broadly, "Pleasure to meet you."

Duke smiled slightly and nodded, as he shook her offered hand, "Likewise."

He studied Adelaide for a moment, meeting her own studious gaze. He noted the tattoos that went up her neck and across her upper chest, and the fact there was a name incorporated into most of them; "Desmond." He noticed that she had a ring on her left hand, but Holly hadn't mentioned a husband; so, if Duke had a guess, Desmond was a _dead_ husband. He wasn't sure what to make of a woman who wore her wounds so blatantly. He wondered what she was seeing as she looked back at him. Whatever it was that she saw, though, she seemed pleased by it.

Holly tilted her head behind her, towards the couch, bringing his attention back to her, "And the little cutie with the braids back there is Brielle, Adelaide's daughter."

Duke glanced over to the couch to see Brielle smiling at him, "Hi!"

Duke smiled back at her, "Hi there, little lady. I like your braids."

Brielle beamed at him, "Thanks! My Auntie did them!"

Jennifer smiled nervously back at Brielle, "Yes, I did." She turned back to Holly and Adelaide, "Are we good to go?"

Adelaide tsked at her, looking at her over her glasses, "Aren't we in a _rush_,"

"_Adelaide,_" Jennifer warned.

"_Jennifer_," Adelaide mimicked, earning an annoyed glare from Jennifer. Duke didn't know what to think of the closeness between Jennifer and this woman who was meant to be a cousin that previously didn't exist.

Adelaide smirked as she waved her off, "Ease up, Jen, I'm just teasing. If you look, I put your phone and your keys in your purse for you."

Jennifer smiled at her, relieved, and kissed her cheek, "Adelaide, you're magic."

Adelaide just chuckled as Holly stiffened slightly; if anyone other than Duke noticed, they didn't make it obvious, "You don't know the half of it, Cos."

Duke's eyebrow twitched upward slightly at the phrase Adelaide used as Jennifer giggled. She turned back to Duke, "Have you eaten? I figured we could, um…well there's this café down the street and Adelaide's known the owner since she was a kid and they have _really_ good food, so—,"

"That sounds great." Duke smiled at her. Though she could've said that she wanted to go run across hot coals and he'd agree, so long as she wanted him there.

Jennifer smiled back, before heading towards the front doors of the shop, "Right! Well. You guys have fun! Oh! Should we meet up for dinner somewhere?"

Holly beamed at her, "I'll text you guys if we think of something."

Jennifer grinned, "Sounds good!" She paused and looked at Duke, "Um, unless, uh, _you_ have something going on tonight? Something better to do?"

Was she kidding? This was the _only_ thing he wanted to do. Duke gave her a baffled look, "No. No, I'm all yours for the day."

Jennifer blushed at that and smiled at him, "Well. Alright then."

Adelaide and Holly exchanged looks behind Duke, not unnoticed by Jennifer, as she fumbled with the door, "Okay! Well, uh, bye everyone! See you later."

"Bye, Jen," Adelaide and Holly said together, both saying "bye" in a sing-song voice, before looking at each other and laughing at some shared, private amusement.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Sorry for the slow update! It's been a bit hectic on my end, but I appreciate the patience and your reviews! Happy reading!

They walked down the street in an awkward silence, both of them with their hands in their jacket pockets. For Duke it was to remove the innate temptation to reach for and hold her hand as they walked, and for Jennifer it was because she didn't know what else to do with them. She kept her eyes in front of her and trained on her feet as she walked, all too aware of the fact that Duke kept glancing at her.

She wanted to say something to alleviate the painfully awkward tension that had only been exacerbated by their leaving the shop, but everything that came to mind would only make it worse, she was sure.

Duke nervously ran a hand through his hair, "Um, look, Jennifer, about last night."

She glanced at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I, uh, I wasn't in a good place last night," He said carefully, "Not that that excuses my behavior because I was _completely_ out of line, and I want to apologize if I scared you. Uh, this past year for me has been—,"

"You're not Holly's friend from Grad school, are you?" Jennifer interrupted, stopping outside the entrance of the café. She hadn't asked to meet up with Duke so that he could give her a lie about what he did or didn't know; she'd asked to meet him to get answers, and that's what she wanted. She wasn't sure how she knew that he was lying or that he was about to, but something in her gut just told her that he was. She looked back at the café. In gold paint on the window was written _Momma Caverna's Bistro and Café_, and through the window, one could see a myriad of mismatched chairs and tables along with dark green, textured walls. There were a few people already at the tables, but it seemed to be rather slow for lunchtime.

Duke didn't try to hide his surprise, "What?"

Jennifer sighed, shifting from foot to foot as she repeated herself, "You're not Holly's friend from Grad school, are you? And, please, spare me the placating lie about—,"

"I would _never_ lie to you." Duke said firmly, interrupting her this time. She looked at him, studying him. His voice was serious, and there was a set in his jaw as he met her gaze.

She trusted him. Or at the very least, she trusted what he'd told her. He looked too serious, too desperate for her understanding to just be trying to placate her. She nodded finally, demonstrating that she understood him.

He risked taking the slightest step closer to her. When she didn't pull away, he said, "Look, Jennifer, if there's something you want to ask me, if there's something you want to know, I _will_ tell you. No tricks, no lies, just the truth as I know it."

Jennifer nodded again, "Alright. So. Are you actually a friend of Holly's from Graduate school?"

Duke smirked as he turned and held the door of the café open for her, "No. In fact, I think the only time I've ever been on a college campus was for fairly illicit activities."

Jennifer let herself chuckle at that as she walked into the café, "Let me guess, something to write to _Penthouse_ about?"

"Oh, well, I wouldn't know anything about _that_," he smiled after her.

The smell of fresh bread hit her full force and brought her attention to just how hungry she actually was. A young woman behind the counter at the back of the café smiled at them, "Hello!"

Jennifer beamed back at her, "Hello! Just a minute, please."

The woman just nodded, "However long you need."

Jennifer grinned back and turned to Duke, her expression serious, "I'm going to need you to not judge how much I'm probably going to eat while we're here; they have _really_ food."

Duke smiled back, "I would never."

She pointed at him, "I'll hold you to that."

"Besides, if the food is as good as you say, I'll probably eat more than you." He said, earning a laugh out of Jennifer.

They ordered; Duke asked Jennifer what she'd recommend, since she seemed to be much more familiar with the menu than he was, and they sat in a pair of arm chairs positioned across each other with a coffee table in between them. Jennifer pulled her legs up underneath her as she sat, adjusting her skirt and getting immediately cozy, where as Duke sank deeply into the cushions of the armchair to the point where the only position he could manage was slouching. He was just barely able to keep his chin from hitting his chest.

Jennifer giggled at him, making him smile at her, "Comfy chair."

She shrugged back, still smiling, "I imagine it helps to be petite like me."

"Oh, well _now_ you tell me." Duke said rolling his eyes at her but smiling. She rolled her eyes back at him, still smiling. There was a lull in their conversation, both glancing momentarily around the café and listening to the acoustic music that was playing over the speakers.

Jennifer took a chance to look around. The café was mostly empty space, allowing for plenty of tables and chairs, but also keeping it from feeling too claustrophobic. The walls were covered in masks ranging in style and color, making for some rather interesting juxtaposition of things, along with a collection of photos that Jennifer assumed had been taken by the owner of the café. The images varied from black and white to color and all of them were absolutely beautiful. The furniture of the café looked to be an assembly of garage sale rejects, thrift store treasures, and perhaps a few dumpster diving incidents, if Jennifer had to guess. Paper lanterns of every shape and design hung from the ceiling, along with white twinkle lights. The twinkle lights and some antique lamps provided most of the light for the café that the front windows didn't already let in, giving it an incredibly homey feel.

Jennifer could understand why Adelaide loved coming here; it was like being in your grandmother's kitchen while she made your favorite meal. It helped her to feel more relaxed across from Duke, who continued to try to keep his glancing at her as discretely as he could. It wasn't _that_ discrete, however, since Jennifer continued to know exactly what he was doing.

She didn't feel completely _uncomfortable_ when he looked at her, in fact she didn't feel uncomfortable at all around him. She just didn't know what he was _seeing_ when he looked at her like he did. She didn't know if _she_ was what he was looking at, or if he was only seeing what he _thought_ she should be.

After a moment, Duke spoke, "So. Why did you want to see me today?"

Jennifer blushed in response and averted her eyes; "Leave it to Holly to be discrete."

Before Duke could say anything, the waitress came and placed their orders on the coffee table between them. Jennifer smiled at her as she came and left, and immediately dug into her macaroni and cheese. She closed her eyes as she chewed, sinking into the chair with the bowl in her hands. Her dad used to make the _best_ macaroni and cheese, and no matter how hard she tried, she'd never been able to get it quite right, but _this_. This was a whole new level of cheesy goodness. It wasn't Dad's, but it was as close as anyone else could get.

Duke glanced at her, taking a bite out of his sandwich, "Don't think that this delicious food is going to distract me from my question."

Jennifer came back to herself and sighed back at him before nodding, "Right. Well. Um."

"Eloquently put," Duke commented, smirking at her over the edge of his coffee mug.

She sneered jokingly at him, "I'm getting there."

Duke just nodded at her as he took a drink, trying to keep himself from saying anything else snarky. God, it was like nothing had changed; she still didn't put up with his shit, she was still just as snarky and witty as he remembered her, it was so _close_ to being how it used to be.

She sighed, "I think that our best plan of action here is just to agree to be upfront with each other."

He gave her a confused look as he set his mug down; that was some _damn_ fine coffee.

"You said you'd never lie to me; the least I can do is say the same. I won't lie to you." She said matter-of-factly, "However, I won't blame you if you think I'm _completely_ crazy after I explain myself."

"You're not crazy." He said easily, as if he was talking about the weather.

She let out a laugh through her nose as she brought her own coffee mug to her lips, "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

He shrugged at her, "I don't need to. You're not crazy."

She studied him over her bowl of macaroni and cheese, looking for some sort of tell to help her understand what he was thinking. He met her gaze, however, keeping it steady. Something told her that he was too practiced for her to be able to tell anyway.

Finally she just sighed and shook her head, and decided to just dive in, "Do you…you wouldn't happen to own a bar called_ The Gray Gull_, would you?"

Duke nodded, "I do."

Jennifer arched an eyebrow at him, "You don't seem surprised that I asked. Holly again?"

Duke gave her a sly smile, "Who else?"

Jennifer sighed, "Okay, so what did Holly tell you?"

"That you'd been in a sailing accident about a year ago and that you'd recently started getting, um, throbs that would lead to what she called, uh, 'memory flashes,' I think? And that you recently remembered something that led to…to me." Duke said. He wasn't sure what to say yet; he wanted to tell her everything about them, about Haven, right then, but he knew it would be best to wait.

He had to believe that it would come back to her, that she was stubborn and determined enough that it wouldn't be hidden from her for long.

She'd come back.

And he'd be there, waiting for her.

Jennifer nodded as she leaned forward and placed the emptied bowl on the table, "Okay, so you're about up to speed; even if you do seem _shockingly_ calm about this whole thing."

Duke shrugged, offering her a smile, "Let's just say that my life has kind of made me immune to being shocked by this kind of thing."

She breathed out a laugh, "You'll have to tell me, sometime, about just _what_ kind of life you've been leading."

His eyes lit up as he smiled back at her, "I'd like to."

She smiled nervously at him before trying to explain more of the situation to him, "See—," she went to gesture with her spoon before pausing, trying to gather her words, "—when you…when I met you, last night, it was…it was like something…I guess it was like something was knocked loose."

She sighed, tossing the spoon into the bowl on the table, and grabbing one of the brownie cookies she'd bought with her meal from the bag the waitress had put them in, and placed the rest into her purse. She curled back into the seat, nibbling at the cookie, and tried to continue, "So, as you know, I told Holly and she told me I should um, _push_ on the throbs so that I could remember and what I remembered was—,"

"The Gull." He finished for her as he leaned forward to pick up her emptied bowl and place it on his now emptied place.

She nodded, "And…well, and you."

Duke looked at her in surprise, a small smile spreading across his face, "Yeah?"

She shifted slightly in her chair, suddenly nervous under his look of hope and joy, "Yes. Well, sort of. I mean, I don't know if it's real or if it even _happened_—which is kind of happening a lot, actually—but that's a lot more complicated than I really understand right now—but…It's, uh, it's kind of hard to explain unless, you know, it's _happening_ to you, but, uh, well, see…"

She paused again, trying to get her words right. What was it about this guy that made her second guess her words? She was a journalist for Christ's sake, _no one_ made her nervous about her words. She sighed, pushing that thought away, and began again, "I remember being at the, uh, the Gull, and I remember you being there and I, uh, I remember… You'd asked me to stay...with you."

Duke rubbed his chin nervously and nodded, "Yeah. I did."

She looked at him, wide eyed, "You…you mean it actually _happened_? Oh. Oh my god—oh, no _wonder _you reacted like you—wait a minute, _when_ did that happen?—No wait, you asked me how I could be alive; did…oh my God, did I_ die_? But how could that—I mean, I'm clearly _not_— wait, what else can—?"

Duke held up a hand to signal her to slow down, "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_ Short Stack. Pump your brakes."

She paused and took a deep breath. There was that nickname again. When she looked to have calmed down a little, Duke spoke carefully, "Like I told you, I will _never_ lie to you, okay? Do you believe that?"

She nodded, giving him a confused look.

"Okay. I will stand by that, I will, but I don't think telling you everything _I_ know about the past year, year and a half, _whatever_, right this second is going to help you."

He wanted to grab her hand, to do something that would comfort her and convince her of his sincerity, but instead he just, nervously, placed his hand on the table in front of her with his fingers splayed.

He wasn't sure what he expected to happen, or what he wanted her to do, but when she tentatively placed her hand in front of his on the table and let her fingers rest in the spaces between his there, he knew that that was more than enough. She wasn't touching him, but she was close and that was enough.

"I will answer any question you ask me, though." He said carefully, looking at her even as she kept her gaze on their barely-not-touching fingers, "All you have to do is ask."

She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing, before opening her eyes and asking, "Were we together?"

"Yes." Duke said quietly.

"Were, uh," her voice broke slightly, "Were we happy?"

"I like to think so." He replied, smiling nervously at her.

"Did…" she swallowed around the lump in her throat. Did she really want to ask this question? Did she really _want_ to know the answer?

"Did I die?"

"Yes." Duke answered, his own voice cracking. He cleared his throat before asking his own question, "Do you…do you remember how?"

She shook her head and chewed her lip for a moment, "No. Not yet anyway."

There was a pause as she tried to wrap her mind around what he'd told her.

"I died." She said it quietly, doing what she'd done as a child after a nightmare; if she talked about it, maybe it would be less real. The problem with that, however, was that this revelation didn't feel _wrong_; there was no feeling of rejection or of a _wrongness_ of what he said.

She died.

She could just feel that that was right. But why couldn't she _remember_? What was keeping the memories from coming back? Why couldn't she remember _more_?

She let out a heartbroken laugh as another, albeit more cynical, thought occurred to her, "I died. But I got better, huh?"

Duke shook his head at her, smiling despite himself—leave it to her to find some way to make a joke about finding out something like that.

"Um…" she said carefully, pulling her hand off the table setting it in her lap. She bit her lip for a moment before asking, "How…how long did…did you think I was dead?"

He swallowed, "Um. About a year."

She furrowed her brow at him, curling up further into the chair, "A year? But why…?"

She paused and narrowed her eyes in confusion at him, "Why did you come to Boston?"

"A friend of ours," Duke answered carefully, "from when you were…when you were with me; he was the one who told me—well, see you had made him a contact on your credit cards 'cause where I'm from was kind of crazy until a couple of months ago—,"

"And where are you from?" Jennifer interrupted.

"Uh, Haven. Haven, Maine?" Duke answered, watching her carefully and trying to discern if the name caused anything else to be "knocked loose," as she put it. Jennifer _wanted_ something to happen, for the blanks in her newly discovered memories to be filled in with the name of the town but…there was nothing. There was barely a throb at the revelation.

God_dammit_ why couldn't she remember?

When she shook her head at him, communicating that the name didn't do anything to trigger her memories, he sighed, but continued where he'd left off, "Our friend got, uh, got a ding on your cards being used and he came to me and he told me about it, and I figured that meant someone had stolen your identity so I came down here deal with it and—,"

"You came down here, after a _year_, because you heard there might be a _possibility_ of someone stealing my identity?" She asked, smirking at him.

He bowed his head as he smiled down at the table, "I mean…when you put it like _that_…"

Jennifer laughed slightly, "Jesus, you must've really l—,"

She stopped herself. Duke tensed, knowing what the rest of that question was going to be, and nodded, "Yeah."

They looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say or do next, before he hit his hands on his knees. He moved to the edge of his seat, "Uh, you know, I think I could use a walk. I don't usually eat food _this_ rich."

Jennifer shook her head as he stood, and said, without thinking, "I imagine it takes a lot of physical activity to maintain a body like that."

Duke laughed at her as she looked up at him in horror and realized what she'd said, "Jennifer Mason, are you _flirting_ with me?"

Jennifer flushed back at him, looking away from him and stammering, "I would—I mean I wasn't _looking_—not really—I mean—,"

He offered her his hand, still laughing at her, "Deep breath, Jennifer, I'm only teasing."

"Can you just pretend that didn't happen?" She asked, lightly touching her forehead in embarrassment.

Duke just chuckled at her as she took his hand and stood. Without thinking, she turned her hand and entwined her fingers with his. Duke tensed, unsure of what to do with how easily she'd taken his hand; it was just like she used to do, it was like she was remembering. She looked down at their hands as he stared at her and smiled fondly at their conjoined hands, "I thought everyone was staring at us."

"What?" he said in surprise.

She looked up at him as the memory played out calmly behind her eyes, like she was watching an old home movie. There was a gloss to her eyes, like she wasn't really seeing him, "The first time we held hands in public, I thought everyone was looking at us and you…you pulled me into the gazebo because you knew something was bothering me and you said to me, 'If anyone's looking at us, they're—,'"

"'They're looking at _me_ and wondering what the _hell_ a guy like _me_ is doing with a girl like _you_.'" Duke finished for her, still looking at her in amazement.

She smiled dreamily at him, "And I asked you, 'A girl like me?' and you said…you told me that I was _perfect_."

Duke turned his body towards her and risked touching her neck, just like he used to, and bowed to look in her eyes, "What else, Jennifer? What else do you remember?"

Her eyes slowly cleared and she shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the cobwebs that seemed to form there, "Just that. Isn't that enough for now?"

When she looked back up to him, her eyes were back to being clear and alert. She looked at him with her own surprise, realizing what had happened. When she went back into her mind to see if she could still remember it clearly or if it would be another kind of after-image memory like what she'd remembered of the Gray Gull, it was still clear.

She _felt_ it.

She smiled at him, "Oh, that's _new_."

He pulled his hand back from her neck, suddenly too conscious of the intimacy of the act and knowing it wouldn't mean the same to her as it did to him; not yet anyway. He studied her carefully, "What…what did…are you okay?"

She tugged on his hand and moved towards the door of the café, "Let's, um…let's go for that walk."

* * *

><p>Adelaide glanced at Holly as she laughed and the door jingled closed behind Duke and Jennifer. She looked to Joshua who was already looking at her, a waiting question on his face.<p>

"Sweetness?" Adelaide said, getting Brielle's attention.

She looked up from her book and beamed at Adelaide, "Yes, Momma?"

"Why don't you go on up and get your jacket so we can get going? Maybe Mr. Joshua will help you." Adelaide smiled at her.

Brielle bounced off the couch, "Okay!"

She turned and grabbed Joshua's hand, "C'mon, Mr. Joshua. Momma fixed my dollhouse since last time you were here; they have a pool now!"

Joshua just smiled down at Brielle before shooting Adelaide a pointed look. She just kept smiling at him as Brielle led Joshua upstairs, telling him all about the family that lived in her dollhouse and all their, rather dramatic, familial troubles.

Holly glanced around the shop and sighed wistfully, "Not a _single_ thing has changed about this shop since I was here last."

"Oh that's not true," Adelaide smirked, "I _know_ I've changed the beaded curtains since you were last here."

Holly giggled at her, still looking around the room, "You know I think you're right. The Mona Lisa one had to've been up by the loft last time."

Adelaide didn't say anything to that and instead placed her hands on the counter and regarded Holly, her expression turning serious, "How long have you known."

It was meant to be a question but her tone made it more of a statement.

Holly scoffed nervously at Adelaide as she turned towards the couch, her stomach lurching slightly in panic, "Known? Known what? That you're interior decorating is awful?"

Adelaide arched an eyebrow at her, "Ah. So _that's_ where Jennifer learned her brilliant deflection strategy."

Holly laughed, sitting down, "Oh, that girl couldn't lie her way out of a paper bag."

"And right now, neither can you." Adelaide's features were still rigid, "Holly, I'm only going to ask one more time and I _need_ you to be up front with me, alright? You—_we_ owe each other that much."

Holly's eyebrow quirked slightly, demonstrating her initial skepticism, but she sighed and straightened her posture as she looked at Adelaide and nodded.

"Holly, how long have you known?"

"About Jennifer?" Holly asked meeting her gaze steadily, "Or about you?"

Adelaide's eyebrow twitched slightly in what Holly assumed was surprise, "I imagine they're fairly intertwined."

Holly nodded and sighed the first word of her sentence, "Then, I suppose I've known since I first spoke to Jennifer last week. What gave me away?"

Adelaide smiled humorlessly, "Oh, Holly. You're good, but you're not _that_ good."

Holly narrowed her eyes at her as she continued, "When Jennifer called me 'magic,' I'm pretty sure _everyone_ saw the way you stiffened."

"Alright, I'm easy to read. So do you want to tell me just what the ever loving _fuck_ is going on here?" Holly asked, her annoyance clear.

Adelaide sighed, "Let me...let me just _guess_ how that conversation with Jennifer went last week."

Holly arched an eyebrow at her, "Is that necessary?"

Adelaide shrugged, "_I_ think so; mostly just to make sure that we're on the same page. So until you'd spoken to Jennifer a week ago, you hadn't really heard or seen anything from her in a while and just when you were starting to get _really_ worried about it—like "seriously contemplating calling the police" worried about it—there she was, on the other side of the line."

Holly nodded, looking at Adelaide in bewilderment.

Adelaide continued, her tone remained even, almost as if she was talking about something as mundane as the weather, "And the second, the _second_ you heard her voice, all these, these _memories_, like pictures in a story book, came and fixed any questions you had for her about all the time that'd passed where you hadn't heard from her." Adelaide tilted her head to the side, still studying Holly, "And while she was talking to you, all excited about seeing you—and maybe you found some small part of you surprised at her timing, though you didn't _really_ remember making any plans for a visit the last time you spoke to her—she mentioned me, or my daughter, or, hell, even Little John, and then there was a whole _other_ set of me and the role I'd played in Jennifer's and your life, so before you could even ask, 'Who's Adelaide?' you had all the answers you didn't even know you needed. Am I right?"

Holly nodded again, her features fixed in surprise.

Adelaide nodded back, "Okay. So. Tell me what _you_ know, Holly."

"I…" Holly stammered, "I have two sets of memories. One with you, and one without."

Adelaide nodded, unfazed, "I figured something like this would happen; I just figured it'd be someone with a little more…_distance_ from Jennifer." She paused before sighing, apparently in agitation but Holly could feel that the agitation wasn't at her, "And I'm sorry to say that a lot of your memories are…they're going to be kind of a mess. At least until…until certain things have settled."

Holly kept staring at her, still swimming in her confusion, as Adelaide mumbled to herself, "God, it's like they aren't even _trying_…"

Holly shook off her confusion and glared at Adelaide, "Jennifer died."

Adelaide nodded sympathetically, "Yes. She was, uh—," Adelaide mimed air quotes, "—'dead' for about a year. When she called you last week, she'd been in my custody for about a…" Adelaide paused, suddenly seeming nervous, before carefully saying, "for, uh, for about a month."

"A _month_?" Holly said loudly as she rose to her feet, "Jennifer's been alive for over a fucking _month_ and—,"

"Keep. Your voice. _Down._" Adelaide said through clenched teeth and glared at her as Holly came back to the other side of the counter where she'd started.

Holly scoffed at her, turning from the counter and daring to raise her voice further, "You want to fucking tell _me_ to—,"

"_Holly_." Adelaide cut her off, voice full of venom, and giving Holly a look that could freeze the heart of a volcano. Holly spun back around and held her tongue, but narrowed her eyes at Adelaide as she continued, "I understand that you are _frustrated_ and _pissed off_ and you have _every_ right to be all of those things, but you have to know that I am your _ally_ in all this. Even if I'm no longer your friend, even if you don't trust me as far as you can throw me, you _have_ to believe that I only want what is best for Jennifer _and_ Duke, and everyone _else_ that's become involved with or effected by what's happened over the last year."

Holly scoffed, "What are you gonna do? Fix my memories?"

Adelaide shook her head, "I don't—that's not really my _job_, Holly. I can only tell you that…that everything's going be righted and when it is, your memories will be as well. Things are…_unsettled_ enough right now that they have the potential to be righted like they need to be."

Holly smirked at her, some of her anger receding despite her wanting to cling to it, "You seem pretty certain about that. You some kind of guardian angel or something?"

Adelaide just shook her head, smiling slightly, "Nah. I'm just a bookstore owner."

Holly rolled her eyes at her, letting out a slight chuckle. God help her, she _wanted_ to hate Adelaide, or at the very least _distrust_ her, but whatever bond they had, manufactured or otherwise, had become real to her. She _felt_ it. Unlike her memories of her, what she felt towards Adelaide was real. Adelaide was as important to her as Jennifer was, and if she couldn't stay mad at Jennifer for long, there was no way she'd be able to stay mad at Adelaide. There was a pause as Holly came back to stand opposite of Adelaide at the counter before she finally asked, "You're my 'ally,' huh?"

Adelaide nodded, "I am."

Holly raised her eyebrows as she nodded, placing her hands on the counter and lightly tapping her fingers against it, "Okay. _Ally_. So if I ask you a question, you'll tell me the truth?"

Adelaide nodded, "To the best of my ability."

Holly nodded again, "Okay. Who took Jennifer?"

"People…" Adelaide paused briefly and sighed, "People with a lot of power who think they know how the world _should _be."

Holly smiled humorlessly, "So politicians took Jennifer?"

Adelaide rolled her eyes, "Aha, a comedian."

"I'm here all month," Holly quipped, before her expression became serious again, "Do you work for them?"

Adelaide leveled her gaze at her; "I did. Only long enough to get Jennifer here and to see how…_far_ their influence on her had gone. The moment I had to tell her that what was _probably_ a memory throb 'wasn't important,' my employment with them ended."

"How long did that take?" Holly asked, though part of her felt like she knew the answer already.

"I'm sorry to say that I only _officially_ cut ties with them yesterday." Adelaide admitted.

Holly considered this for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration, as she seemed to find a spot on the counter to fixate on before asking her next question, "Is she safe here?"

"I understand your concern, especially given my previous admission but you have to believe me when I say, _yes_, she's safe here. For now, this is _the_ safest place she can be." Adelaide said, crossing her arms, "Duke, I'm sure, would prefer to believe that she'd be the safest on the Rouge but until…until Jennifer remembers _everything_, she has to stay here."

"Shouldn't that be her choice?" Holly asked; she pulled her gaze from the spot she'd been studying to look at Adelaide. Jennifer was many things, and among those things, and despite Holly's teasing, she was strong and stubborn. If Holly knew even just one thing about Jennifer Mason, it was that _no one_ told her what to do or stopped her from getting what she wanted. If Jennifer wanted to be with Duke, she would be; consequences be damned.

Adelaide smiled, "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Holly; blatant and rockin' fashion sense aside."

Holly rolled her eyes but she smiled at her, Adelaide continued, "When the time comes for Jennifer to make her choice, it _will_ be hers. But she deserves to know everything first—she's had to deal with too many half-truths and full lies lately. Asking her to make this or any kind of commitment _now_ would be horribly unfair. Things…things still aren't quite set, yet."

Holly shook her head, "You keep saying that but what does that mean? Do you always speak in riddles?"

Adelaide smiled and shrugged, "Went to the school of the Sphinx, what can I say."

Holly rolled her eyes, something she was becoming an expert at, "Right. I'm sure that's where _all_—," Holly raised her fingers to mime air quotes at Adelaide, "—'bookstore owners' go."

Adelaide just chuckled at her.

"What did—_do_ these people with all this power want with Jennifer, anyway?" Holly asked.

Adelaide studied her briefly before asking, "When you and Jennifer were younger and you'd get together, did anything strange happen?"

Holly scoffed, "What like she saw into the future or knew things about people she just couldn't know?"

Adelaide gave her a small smile, "No, nothing like that. It wouldn't have been that extreme. It would've been…small. Something that wouldn't seem strange until you really started to think about it—and that's what I'm asking you to do now—_really_ think about it, Holly."

Holly rolled her eyes as she thought briefly. Her face stayed incredulous as she thought, even as one thing stood out to her, "She…she could just _find_ things, you know? Like if something or someone was lost, or hidden, Jennifer would find it like it was as plain as the nose on your face."

Adelaide nodded as Holly continued, "When she couldn't find anything out about her birth parents she told me that something felt really _wrong_ about it, you know? I mean, she'd never put too much stock into her weird subtalent, but it just seemed too…"

Holly let the thought end as realization hit her, "Oh wait a fucking _minute_, is that what they wanted? 'Cause she can find keys and—?"

"Holly, I've agreed to be up front with you, the least you can do is do the same for me." Adelaide interrupted.

Holly gave her a surprised, nervous look, "What are you…?"

Adelaide looked at her knowingly, "You know she's able to find _more_ than just lost knick-knacks."

Holly chewed the inside of her cheek for a second before saying carefully, "Duke…Duke and I talked last night. I…I remembered him from one of my memory—I dunno, sets?—and he told me about what happened in Haven; about Jennifer's importance there. Yeah. I know she can find more than just knick-knacks."

Adelaide nodded, "So imagine, then, that you are one of those people with a lot of power who think they know how the world _should_ be, and then there's some…some _free radical_, unaligned with anything or anyone is out there in the world. Just…left to have this ability, unchecked, finding things she should _not_ find, knowing things she should _not_ know. No one knows where her loyalties lie, no one knows what she's capable of or what she knows, and some of those 'no one's—some of whom are people like you—are none too keen to find out or to wait until she makes a move; what do you think would be their-or even your-first move?"

"I…I don't—,"

"Yes you do, Holly," Adelaide interrupted, "you've read enough books, you know the patterns—what do you think the first move of some of those big bad 'no one's would be? Even some of those people like you?"

"They'd, um," Holly said, her voice cracking slightly, "They'd kill her."

Adelaide nodded, "Exactly. She dies, things that are hidden stay that way, doors stay locked, the world keeps spinning; at least that's what they seem to think."

"What do _you_ think?" Holly asked nervously.

Adelaide shrugged, "The Buddha once said that three things cannot remain long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."

Holly smiled mirthlessly, "And a great FBI agent once said, 'the truth is out there.'"

Adelaide smiled at her

"But what's…?" Holly started to ask, "But what's keeping them from—what makes here so much _safer_? Duke said that all that…all that _stuff_ in Haven was over, and that Jennifer's _thing_ would be over with it." Holly asked, clearing her throat slightly and focusing on Adelaide. She could feel panicked and scared tears stinging her eyes but she refused to let them win out. _There's no crying in baseball_, she thought to herself, rolling her shoulders and steeling herself.

Adelaide sighed, "Unfortunately, Duke's under the mistaken impression that Haven was the only…_troubled_ spot in the world. Jennifer's…_thing_, as you put it, is a bit more _universal_. As to what makes this place safer: I do. _I'm_ why this place is the safest place for her." Adelaide finished, crossing her arms.

Holly scoffed at her, "How is that supposed to make me feel _better_? What even _are_ y—?"

"Holly," Adelaide said sternly, holding up her hand to cut Holly off, "I already _told_ you what I am; I'm a bookstore owner."

Holly rubbed her forehead, but didn't say anything more. She had the feeling that no matter how hard she pushed, or how many times she asked, that was going to be the only answer she got out of Adelaide. A pause settled on them as Holly gathered her thoughts.

"What, um," Holly began, suddenly shifting nervously, "What do you know about me? About Jennifer, and Duke, and…and Josh?"

Adelaide's expression softened as she replied, "I know everything that your memories tell you that I know, and nothing more."

"Okay so what does that _mean_?" Holly leaned heavily against the counter, looking eager, "Are your memories of us like our—or I guess just my—memories of you? Or are _yours_ real?"

"Holly, my memories…" Adelaide paused, biting the inside of her cheek, and sighed, "The topic of my memories is a…a _very_ complicated conversation for a _very_ different time. All that _matters_ is that I…I feel…"

She let out a breath and then nervously reached for Holly's hand. When Holly didn't pull it away, Adelaide carefully placed her hand on top of hers and squeezed it, "I _feel_ like you and Jennifer are part of my family, and I don't want to lose that."

Holly stared at their hands for a moment before she squeezed her hand back. They looked at each other before Holly rolled her eyes at her, "Jesus, Adelaide, when did you get all sentimental?"

Adelaide coughed on a laugh, "Guess there's something in the water."

Holly laughed back at her, giving her hand another squeeze before letting it go. They stood in silence momentarily, only to have it interrupted by a few loud thumps from the loft and the sound of uproarious little girl laughter.

Adelaide looked towards the stairs, laughing as she yelled, "That doesn't sound like Jacket Hunting!"

"Sorry, Momma!" came the loud reply from up the stairs.

"Sorry, Ms. Adelaide!" Joshua yelled as well.

Adelaide laughed as she looked back to Holly, "I think I left one child to watch another."

Holly smiled slightly back, her expression was as if she was looking at something far away, "How, um…what's Josh's role in all this?"

Adelaide regarded Holly carefully, "What tipped you off to his involvement at all?"

"When Duke and I got here and I…when I introduced them, Josh already knew about Duke—at least in part—but the only way _I_ know Duke is because of Jen and I never—,"

Adelaide held her hand up to Holly to stop, "He knew something that he shouldn't have."

"Well, I wasn't going to put it so _creepily_, but if that's the way you want to phrase it…" Holly said, trying to be light, but her stomach lurched. Holly had never considered herself to be a particularly protective older sister, but she didn't like the idea of her little brother being involved in whatever the hell was happening to Jennifer. Hell, she didn't like _Jennifer_ being involved in whatever the hell was happening to Jennifer.

Adelaide tried to give her a reassuring smile, "It's okay. Joshua is only as involved as he wants to be."

"That doesn't really make me feel _better_." Holly said, glancing at the stairs as Joshua and Brielle came down them. Brielle was on his back, laughing at something he'd said or done, and he had a big grin on his face. It'd been a long time since Holly had seen her brother so at ease. It almost broke her heart.

Adelaide patted her hand, "He's okay, Holly. He's…he's returning a favor. We're...we're keeping him safe."

"A favor? What does that—?" Holly started to ask.

"Momma, we're ready!" Brielle interrupted, beaming at them from over Joshua's shoulder. Her jacket was clenched in her hands as they rested under his chin as her arms wrapped around his neck.

"We'll continue this later," Adelaide said quietly to Holly before turning to them, "Brielle, that had to be the _longest_ Jacket Hunt you've ever been on!"

Joshua chuckled, "Well, we _started_ on a Jacket Hunt, but then as Brielle told me about the Drama in the Dollhouse—,"

Adelaide gasped, "Oh, Bob and Carol?"

Joshua shook his head, "Don't get me _started_ on Bob and Carol."

Adelaide nodded solemnly as Brielle giggled over his shoulder. Joshua continued, "I became a bit enraged and, well, to make a long story short—,"

"Too late," Holly and Adelaide said together. They glanced at each other and grinned.

"—I became Godzilla and crushed Tokyo, Moscow, London, and part of San Francisco." Joshua concluded.

Holly smirked, "What, all the other major cities in between London and San Francisco just not worth it?"

"Well I _started_ in London." Joshua contended.

Adelaide pulled Brielle off Joshua's back and set her on the floor, taking her jacket from her and helping her into it, "Well, if you're _quite_ done destroying major cities, I think there's an aquarium for us to get to."

"Right you are, Ms. Adelaide. My car's around back," Joshua led the way out of the store.

Adelaide held Brielle's hand and followed, Holly following behind as she mumbled to herself, "We'll finish this later."

* * *

><p>Jennifer held Duke's hand tightly as they walked to the park a couple of blocks away from the café and from Bouquin Bros. Duke wasn't complaining, but he knew that she only held his hand this tightly when she was thinking intently about something and wasn't really paying attention to the rest of the world. He looked around at the people around them, wondering if they were being watched by whomever it was that had taken Jennifer.<p>

He didn't know who they were, but he knew at least part of what they were capable of, and he doubted that they'd let her out of their sight so easily.

She was tapping her thumb against his and chewing on the inside of her lip. She was looking at her feet as they walked and was so removed from what was going on around her, Duke was afraid that if he wasn't holding her hand, she'd walk off and keep going until he never saw her again.

And he could only handle that so many times in one life.

He spotted a bench and pulled her towards it. He sat on it and pulled her gently down to sit next to him.

She kept fidgeting even as they sat; her leg was bouncing, her thumb was still tapping against his, and she was tapping the fingers of her free hand against her other leg.

"Hey," he said gently, ducking a little to catch her eye.

"Hm?" She said, only tilting her head slightly but still not looking at him yet.

He sighed before deciding to risk reaching out and touching her neck to get her to look at him.

"Hey, Short Stack, slow down; you fidget anymore and I think you're gonna atomize yourself."

Her eyes cleared slightly and she focused on him as her hands and leg stilled and she tried to smile at him, "I didn't think I was being that bad."

He smiled back, pulling his hand away from her neck, "I'm pretty sure that if you weren't holding my hand, you'd just keep walking until you couldn't anymore."

She shook her head, "Sorry. I, uh, I do that when I start really thinking about something; I just kind of…go."

Her smile turned sad as she looked back at him, "But I imagine you already knew that."

He nodded as he leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. He held their joined hands in front of his and ran his free hand over her knuckles. It wasn't what he really wanted to do, it wasn't a kiss, but it was as close as they were going to get for now. "I did know that. Which is why I'm going to ask what you've been thinking _about_, and what happened in the café."

She sighed, "When you, um…when you took my hand, it was…it was like everything just lined up and made the memory of the first time you held my hand in public clear."

He raised his eyebrows at her, "You remember enough of the context to—?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm sorry I…I just remember what I'd thought at the time, and I was hyperaware of the fact that that was the first time we did that."

She paused as she crossed her legs next to him, "The memory itself was…it was so _different_ than any of my other…I dunno _episodes_. It came so calmly, so easily; there wasn't even a throb before it, it all just…it _flowed_. And I…I _felt_ it—all of it. And it just…it wasn't the first time this happened; when…just before you told me I looked nice back at the shop, I…that was when I remembered that you were glad I was staying in…well I suppose you were glad I was staying in Haven."

Duke squeezed her fingers as she continued, "But that moment is…is strange because it's like…I only remember up to you saying that you were glad that I was staying but it just…it stops there. You were looking at me after I asked if you were glad if I was earning rent money, and then I remember you saying 'Staying in' but that's where it ends."

"What do you—what does _that_ mean?" Duke asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

She sighed, "Hell, I dunno. It's like someone went through and cut out certain things. The name of your town seems to be one of them," Jennifer explained, "But the memory of you holding my hand, now, that played out in its entirety and I _felt_ everything and I just…I _remembered_."

He looked at her nervously, "Has it…has it happened again since we've been walking?"

She shook her head, "No. No, it hasn't happened again. Not, um, not _yet_, anyway."

_Not even when I touched your neck?_ He wanted to ask, but he refrained, pushing down the disappointment that the gesture hadn't done anything. It had been so important before, and he had hoped—he pushed the thought away and chose instead to ask, "What do you think caused it?"

Duke turning towards her slightly as Jennifer shook her head, "I have no idea. I mean, that wasn't the…the first time you'd touched me—I mean hell, you _hugged_ me the second you saw me and this didn't happen—but…oh hell, I don't _know_."

She sighed and let her head fall back as she pressed the thumb and forefinger of her free hand against her eyelids. She left her hand there as she said, "Do you think if you touch me somewhere else I'll remember something more?"

Duke laughed nervously, _Oh don't tempt me_, "I think that that isn't exactly first date talk."

She laughed, dropping her hand from her eyes and looking back at him, "I guess you're right. What would you suggest to get this…this _date_ back on track?"

"Well, this hand holding?" He said, holding their conjoined hands up for her to see, "This? Right here? This is a _really_ good start."

She giggled at him as he glanced briefly around the park and spotted a cotton candy vendor just across the way. He continued, turning his gaze back at Jennifer, "Now the next step—_if_ you promise not to get up and walk until you can't anymore—is for me to be the gentleman and offer you some cotton candy for us to share while we talk."

She smiled at him skeptically, "'Talk'? That sounds a little _normal_, don't you think?"

He grinned at her, "Well, there's a first time for everything,"

_Or second in our case_, it was unsaid between them but certainly not unfelt, even as she laughed at him.

Duke pointed at her with his free hand, "Promise you won't wonder off while I grab the cotton candy?"

She grinned at him, "I don't know where else I'd go."

He just chuckled at her before squeezing her fingers and standing, he held her hand for as long as he could as he stood and walked away. As he crossed the park, he'd look back at her, like he was trying to make sure that she was still there. Every time he looked back at her, she'd smile at him and wave slightly, trying to communicate, "I'm still here. I haven't gone anywhere."

Once he reached the vendor and was distracted from checking on her every few seconds, she let herself try to figure out what else she could ask him about. Haven would probably be a good start, what her role there was, why she'd go there, and maybe something about this relationship she was apparently starting to remember. From his actions and reactions to her, she could tell that he'd cared about her—deeply, in fact; and that he still did. But part of her wondered how much of that was just out of a continuation of those feelings for her, or if they were out of guilt. She hadn't managed to glean much about the circumstances of her death from Duke, but there had been guilt in his eyes when he'd ask if she remembered what had happened, which only made her own developing feelings for him that much more complicated.

She sighed to herself as she watched Duke talking to the vendor, smiling and making small talk, and she couldn't help but smiled to herself. She liked him. Or, at least, she believed that she _could_ like him. He was funny, kind to her, and really listened to her when she talked. Maybe instead they could just have a normal first date talk, about childhoods, and embarrassing school stories, just normal things. Strange as it was, it felt as if she hadn't done anything "normal" in a very long time. And even though she was sure what she had to say he'd heard before from her, she still wanted to tell him; to do it all again.

_Not everyone is lucky enough to get a second chance like this_, the small voice in her mind from before, the one that always seemed to crop up wherever Duke was concerned, whispered in her mind.

"Excuse me, Miss?" A voice to her right said, pulling her back to reality.

She looked up at the man, a lanky individual, with blond hair and blue eyes. He looked kind enough but there was the slightest feeling of unease that came over her as she looked at him. She could almost hear Adelaide calling him something like 'Stretch,' but she smiled at him all the same to be polite, "Yes?"

He smiled back at her, looking nervous and relieved that she was willing to speak to him, "I'm so sorry, I'm not from around here and I'm just trying to get to, um," He fumbled briefly with a map, "Old North Church?"

She smiled at him and held her hand out for the map, "Here, let me show you."

He stood closer to bench, not enough to invade her space but enough to make her feel as if she needed to be on her alert, as she unfolded and refolded the map to show him where he was, "See, we're here, and Old North Church is just down that way—," she went from pointing on the map to pointing to her left towards the other side of the park, "—across Unity Street,"

The man laughed, "Oh! Don't I feel dumb."

She just smiled at him as she handed him back the map, "Don't worry about it, sometimes even _I_ get lost around here."

"Well, I've heard that it's not so bad getting lost sometimes. Let's you…_forget_ about all those _troubling_ things," The man smiled back and looked at her for moment longer, making Jennifer shift slightly away from him this time, that uneasy feeling getting stronger.

"My mother used to tell me that the, uh, _trouble_ with running away was that you always met yourself once you got there." Jennifer replied, using the same inflection as the man instinctively. She was sure her confusion was obvious on her face but she kept smiling at him, hoping that he wouldn't suddenly turn angry.

"Wise words," The man contended, though there was a tension to his shoulders and in his voice now that only made Jennifer more uneasy and made her wonder what this man's damage was, "But who said anything about running away?"

Jennifer shrugged, beginning to steel herself to the man, "She seemed to think that you only got truly lost when you didn't know where you were going, and that only happened when you ran away from something."

The man returned the shrug, still trying to smile at her, "Maybe running away isn't as bad as your mom made it out to be."

Jennifer just tried to give him a placating smile, even as her agitation began to flare up. She looked toward where Duke was, and relaxed slightly when she saw that he was on his way back.

"Sorry, hate to ask for any more from you since you've been so _helpful_ but could I bother you to recommend a place for lunch?" The man asked, pulling her attention back to him.

"Um," _Anywhere away from _me, she thought as she glanced again towards where Duke was coming from. He met her gaze and smiled at her, she tried to smile back, but he could apparently already see that something was wrong. As he got closer, he seemed to notice the unwanted attention this man was giving her and his entire demeanor changed; he looked like a man who was holding on to the last strains of his reserve. Jennifer continued to speak to the man, hoping that if she just played along, he'd go away though her agitation at him was growing, "Momma Caverna's, on Charter Street; their food is exceptional."

The man smiled and leaned down towards her, making her slide further away from him. If he noticed he didn't seem to really care, "Would you mind showing me?"

"I would, actually." She said, finally tired of being nice and of this man not taking the hint, "And I mind that you keep trying to get in my space."

The man looked at her, shocked.

"Listen, Stretch—," The man seemed to tense at her slip, but Jennifer wasn't sure what to do with that yet. She was certain, however, that she didn't care as she continued, "—I don't know where you're from, but I suggest you work on your manners and ability to read people, 'cause I have been sending a pretty _clear_ message since you made that crack about running away."

"And what would that message be?" The man asked, his smile turning venomous.

"Leave. Me. _Alone_." Jennifer said through clenched teeth and meeting his gaze.

"Hey, Sweetheart, sorry about that," Duke said, approaching the bench at an even gait and sounding incredibly calm. He kept his eyes on her, smiling and offering her his free hand, "The Cotton Candy Guy really liked to talk."

Jennifer smiled back, and took his hand as she stood. She instinctively moved to Duke's side so that he was in between her and the blond man. Even if she hadn't done this as easily as if she'd done it a hundred times, however, Duke was already gently pulling her that direction. He smiled at her and offered her the blue cotton candy to take. Once she did, he turned back to the blond man. Jennifer could see the change in him as he addressed him, even without looking at his face. His entire back tensed, as if he was getting ready for a fight, but he was also incredibly still, like he was just waiting for the absolute last moment to say or do anything. He was using his full height and size to attempt to intimidate the man, and Jennifer was surprised to realize that he was actually taller than she had initially thought. It was as if he was trying to turn himself into a solid wall between her and Stretch. Part of her expected his grip on her hand to be tight as he entwined their fingers, but it was as casual as ever, belying the agitation she could see in the rest of his body. Without thinking, she squeezed his hand gently, as if she was trying to communicate to him that she was all right. _I'm okay, you're here, everything's fine_; it was a habit that seemed natural to her. There wasn't a real change in him, but some of the tension seemed to ease slightly in him. He gently squeezed her hand back, even as he kept his gaze trained on Stretch.

"I'm sorry, and you are?" Duke asked, a forced pleasantness to his voice.

The blond man smiled coldly back at Duke, but Jennifer was the one to answer dismissively as she took a bite from the cotton candy and shrugged, "Just a lost tourist."

Duke glanced at her. She met his gaze and whatever he saw there, he seemed to understand as the man explained, "She was just giving me directions."

"Right." Duke said, turning back to the man as he dragged the word out. He winked at him, "She's a gem like that. Well, we should get going; places to be, tourists to avoid, you know how it is."

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, his smile seeming to have become frozen to his face.

Duke clapped him on the shoulder, "Good luck finding your way, though, buddy. Maybe next time, don't bother the pretty brunette sitting alone on the bench."

"Because I don't know who she's waiting on?" the man asked condescendingly.

"No." Jennifer answered, stepping out from behind Duke. She doubted she looked very menacing with a stick of cotton candy in her hand, but she kept her voice stern and squared her shoulders as she continued, "Because you don't know what kind of _mace_ that pretty brunette has got in her purse."

Duke grinned at her Stretch stood there, opening and closing his mouth quickly and reminding Jennifer briefly of a gold fish. She tugged on Duke's arm, "C'mon, I suddenly don't feel like walking in the park anymore."

"Anything for you, Sweetheart." Duke replied, giving the man a mock salute and following after Jennifer.

She took another bite from the cotton candy, even as Duke continued to glance at her with pride in his features. She offered the cotton candy up to him so he could take his own bite, "You're either looking at me like that because you really want some cotton candy, or you've got something to say to me,"

He used his free hand to pull away some of the candy fluff and put it in his mouth, as it dissolved he said, "You were pretty _badass_ back there, Short Stack; you deal with weirdos hitting on you a lot?"

Jennifer smirked at him, "Yeah, like last night. This _weird_ guy came up and hugged me, claiming that he knew me. Guy was _clearly_ off his rocker."

Duke scrunched his nose at her, "Sounds like you handled it well."

She shrugged, still smiling at him, "Apparently not; I'm on a date with the guy."

Duke rolled his eyes at her, "Right. So any _other_ problems with weirdos hitting on you?"

She smirked slightly; biting back on her next snarky remark about if he was jealous, and shrugged again at him, "Probably no more than the usual woman. I just doubt that anyone else had a cousin like Adelaide."

Duke nodded, "Ah yes, she seems like a woman who can handle herself."

Jennifer smiled, "_Oh_ yeah. Right before I left for college she _insisted_ that I learn how to fight and defend myself; granted, she and some of the other kids in my neighborhood would often get into fights when she'd visit us when I was growing up anyway, and since I was her cousin I'd have to fight with her so—,"

"_You_ used to get into fights with the neighbor kids?" Duke asked, looking at her skeptically.

She grinned at him and let go of his hand momentarily to mockingly flex at him, "You're looking at the light weight champion of Camden Street, buddy."

He laughed at her as he took her hand again, "I'll try to remember that."

She giggled at him and took another bite of cotton candy, "Damn right you will."

"So what was the deal with that guy? He kind of weirded me out even before I got back to you." Duke commented, glancing around them briefly to take stock of the people around them. He doubted the guy would be so ridiculously brazen as to follow after them, but if his life made him anything, it made him paranoid. When he didn't see anyone paying them any obvious unnecessary attention, he turned his gaze back to her.

Jennifer shrugged, "To hell if I know. He started talking about getting lost and forgetting troubles and running away. He was kind of skeevy, right? Gave me the heebie-jeebies."

"Had you ever seen him before?"

Jennifer gave him a confused look and wasn't quite sure what to do with his tone, "Why do you ask?"

Duke shook his head, "I dunno, he just seemed really…_familiar_ with you, y'know?"

Jennifer shrugged dismissively, "Skeevy guys tend to do that. But no, I've never seen him before."

She smirked at the cotton candy as she commented quietly, "That I remember, anyway."

He squeezed her fingers absently as he nodded and chose not to say anything about her comment. God only knew how much truth there might be to her joke, and he'd rather not think about it. He chose, instead, to focus on the feeling of her hand in his. It'd been so long since he'd felt her hand in his, he'd forgotten how easily, how _nicely_, her fingers fit between his. He had to fight the urge to swing their hands as they walked; he was not a schoolboy walking with his crush.

She offered him the cotton candy again, as she asked, "So tell me about yourself, Duke. I feel like we kind of missed that step in the whole 'normal first date' thing."

Duke shrugged as he grabbed another chunk of cotton candy, sucking some of the excess sugar off his thumb and smirking at her comment, "Not much to tell really. Grew up in Haven, Maine, and barely scraped out with a high school diploma. I own a bar, as you know, and I…well I'm a transporter."

Jennifer nodded, her eyebrow quirking up speculatively as she gave him a knowing look, "Ah, yes, that's the term Holly used."

"You sound dubious."

She smiled, her lips a faint blue from the cotton candy, and looked at him innocently, "Dubious? What's there to be dubious _about_?"

Duke rolled his eyes, "Okay, so it's a bit more—,"

"Illegal? Y'know," she grinned at him, "Like a criminal?"

Duke chuckled, "I prefer the term 'below board.' And not _all_ of it is."

"Right," she nodded, dragging out the word, "And no comment about the criminal accusation?"

He shrugged, "I am what I am. And what I am is a criminal," to her calculating and knowing glare, he quickly added, "but one with a heart of gold."

Her eyes sparked with amusement at that, and pressed for more information about Duke's business, "So how do you do your transporting? You drive around? You run some sort of really complicated mail system?"

He laughed, "Well, technically speaking, the latter _is_ correct,"

She glared jokingly at him, making him laugh again before he answered, "I own a boat. Well, I live on it."

"Yeah?" She smiled, eyes lighting up in amusement again, "Are you trying to tell me that I'm on a date with a real-life pirate?"

He let out a light laugh, thinking to himself, _Gone for over a year and still making pirate jokes._

"Yeah, Short Stack; got any reservations about being out with a Pirate?" He asked, grabbing another chunk of cotton candy.

She considered it, "Nah, besides, I doubt anyone would believe me. And how dangerous can he be with a heart of gold?"

He grinned at that as she asked, "What's the name of your boat, anyway?"

Duke rolled his shoulders slightly, "It's, um…are you sure it'll be okay? To say it?"

She gave him a confused look before she caught his meaning and then shrugged, "Who knows? Nothing happened when you talked about Haven. I have no idea what hearing the name of your boat will do, but I figure the best way to figure this thing out is to just…just do it."

Duke smiled at her, "Absolutely fearless."

She shrugged, "Not so much fear_less_, I'm just…I'm so _tired_ of letting something other than _me_ make my choices for me, you know?"

He just grinned at her, as she waggled her fingers that she was holding the cotton candy with at him, to signal for him to tell her.

"My boat's name is _The Cape Rouge_."

Duke watched her carefully, conflicted about whether or not he should hope for a throb. He wanted to do something to bring her back to herself—to _him_, but he didn't want to do it if it would hurt her. She closed her eyes, hoping that something would come, but just like with Haven, nothing did.

Not yet anyway.

But she was already getting tired of saying that.

She opened her eyes and shook her head at him sadly. Duke sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. She squeezed his fingers, "Hey."

He looked at her, squeezing her fingers back, as she continued, "It'll…it'll come back. We just have to give it time."

He nodded, "Right. Time."

She studied him a moment, sensing his agitation and waning patience, but she wasn't sure what she could say or do to make him feel better. Her first impulse was to reach up and touch his face, but she fought it. It felt…it felt like too much too soon. What was that called? When your body just wanted to do something that felt like instinct but it didn't make sense for it to be that? Muscle memory. She sighed internally; well that's just great. Her body remembered, but nothing _else_ did. She tried to look on the bright side; at least _some_ part of her was remembering.

She took a bite of the cotton candy as Duke shook his head and sighed, knowing somehow, that she could feel his agitation. He rolled his shoulders, trying to relax. She _was_ right; they just had to give it time. He glanced at her again, and chose to enjoy the artificial coloring to her lips. He wondered, briefly, if he kissed her right then, if he'd still taste the cotton candy.

There was a pause as they both looked around the street before he reached for one of the last bits of cotton candy left on the paper cone as Jennifer asked, "Why do you call me 'Short Stack'?"

Duke was surprised by the question but he just shrugged, "Just seemed to fit, you know? You, uh," he laughed slightly, "You hated it at first, I think. You'd, uh, you'd get this…this little, agitated crease between your eyebrows. And then, one day, I dunno, you just stopped doing it."

He smiled fondly at the memory, before glancing at her and running his free hand through his hair again, "Sorry."

She shook her head at him as she tossed the paper cone of the cotton candy into a nearby trashcan, her lips now sufficiently blue, "No, it's okay. Besides, you answered what I asked."

There was a pause as Duke fell into his own memories briefly; He'd first started calling her "Short Stack" on one of the first days they knew each other. It'd been an accident, not something he intended to keep calling her, but something about the way she'd get agitated and roll her eyes when he would…it wasn't until after they were together that he realized that it was because he thought it was cute. And then she got him back by calling him "Sailor" and it became as comforting for him to hear as her saying his name.

An electronic _ding_ came from her purse and she let his hand go briefly to root through her purse until she pulled out her phone. As she looked at the screen, she absently reached for his hand again, entwining her fingers with his. It was such a simple natural thing for her to do, it was so like before, that part of Duke felt like it would break in half. She smiled at the screen and held it up for him to see; it was a picture of Holly, Joshua, and Brielle in front of the seal tank. Holly was grinning knowingly at the camera, Joshua was grinning tiredly, and Brielle was looking with wonder up at the seals that swam up behind them.

Duke smiled at the picture as Jennifer pulled it back, "It's from Adelaide; the caption under it says, 'Holly says to tell Duke we found his friends'."

Duke rolled his eyes and, to Jennifer's confused look, said, "It's a long story."

She quirked an eyebrow at him as her phone dinged again. It was a series of pictures of all four of them alternating at one of those face insertion caricature boards; one of Adelaide as a mermaid and Joshua as a sailor, followed by one of Brielle as an otter and Holly as a dolphin.

"What's the caption on that one say?" Duke asked.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Adelaide wants a picture of us."

Duke gave her a confused look, "What for?"

Jennifer shrugged, "To make sure I'm still alive? Who knows why Adelaide does _anything_; I just know that it's usually easier to just roll with it than it is to try and argue with her."

She pulled up the camera on her phone and smiled at it, she didn't take a picture though; instead she seemed distracted by her image, "Aw, man! Why didn't you _tell_ me my lips were blue? Stupid cotton candy."

He grinned at her, "It's a good color on you, Short Stack."

She smirked at him, "Doesn't look so bad on you either, _Sailor_."

Duke froze for a second, staring at her. She gave him a confused look, "What?"

"You, um, you used to call me that. That was…"

"Oh."

They stared at each other for a moment longer. That had been too easy; it had come too _naturally_ not to mean something, but what? It wasn't a memory that had prompted Jennifer to say that, it had just been…it had been _them_, together. Duke wasn't sure how much to hope for, but he'd been hoping since he first saw her again; why stop now? He sighed at himself; he knew why—hope was a deadener, you don't focus, you don't stay _alive_ when you hope too much.

Her phone buzzed again, pulling them back out of their respective thoughts. Duke took it from her carefully, "Think, uh, think we can give her a normal enough looking picture?"

Jennifer tried to smile at him, "I'm willing to try if you are."

He held the phone out so that they were both in the frame, just before he clicked for the picture to be taken, she said, "Stick your tongue out."

"What?"

"Stick your tongue out. Adelaide'll get a kick out of seeing my tongue blue, but there's no _way_ I'm gonna be the only one making a dumb face in this picture." Jennifer smiled.

"Solidarity at it's finest."

"Only way to go." She grinned at him.

Duke shook his head at her in response but stuck his tongue out with her as he took the picture. She took the phone back and sent the image, smiling at the phone. When she'd placed the phone back in her purse, she looked at him nervously. She didn't know what to do or say, but she did know the sun was setting and that they should get going back towards the shop. She told him as much and he nodded. She was nervous about reaching for his hand again, but he left it out for her, just swinging at his side. He seemed anxious and a little agitated; he kept glancing around the street and then down to her. He reminded her of kid who shoplifted a piece of candy from a drugstore; constantly checking for anyone who seemed to be looking at him too long and constantly checking his pocket where the candy was still there.

_Does that make me the candy in this situation?_ She thought, smirking to herself.

She pulled herself back to the moment and glanced at him. She was suddenly very aware that she wanted to hold his hand again. She let the back of her hand brush his, to test the waters, and saw how he straightened slightly and let his fingers twitch towards her. That had to be a good sign, right? She smiled to herself before letting her fingers loosely twine with his. He tightened his grip on her fingers as they walked; he seemed relieved that she wanted to hold his hand again, and she was glad to see how he relaxed he got at her touch. He looked at her, a nervous glance that reminded her of a schoolboy looking at his crush, and she smiled at him and wrapped her other arm around his, pulling him the slightest bit closer to her. He smiled at her, happily letting himself be pulled towards her. She liked that he was so responsive to her touch; she'd never really been overly contact driven, but something about the way he looked at her, and the way he was so happy and reactive to her that made her _want_ to touch him. There was even…there was even a calming effect on _her_ when she did. She used to tell Holly that it was always like her mind was on overdrive, making her overthink things, always fidgeting; there was never any…any _quiet_ in her mind but when she held his hand, that was what she got: quiet.

They walked that way for a while, not really saying anything, but Jennifer didn't care. They hadn't really done anything on this date, but this was the most fun she'd had in a long time.

He kept looking at her, and would smile at her with this sentimentality that made her wonder, once again, just what it was that he _saw_ when he looked at her. Here she was: liking this guy, enjoying being with him and learning about him, but for all she knew he wasn't seeing _her_. Not who she was in this moment, walking with him, but who he _remembered_ her as.

The sun had already disappeared behind the buildings by the time they made it back to the bookstore. The lights were on in the shop, Little John was on the couch with his head towards the door, and there was light coming through the beaded curtain of the kitchenette, but the "closed" sign was hanging in the front window. If Jennifer had to guess, everyone was probably sitting in the kitchenette while Adelaide made them something to eat or drink. Duke let go of her hand as he moved to open the door for her but Jennifer tugged on his arm, stopping him.

He arched an eyebrow at her and she just smiled, her lips distinctly less blue than they had been earlier, "Trust me, you're gonna want to wait awhile before going in there; the second we go through that door, we'll likely be swarmed by an excited six year and two women who enjoy teasing me."

He smiled at her skeptically, and in response to his expression, Jennifer said, "No really, you're gonna need a moment to brace yourself."

Duke just laughed at her, "_Well_, and here I thought I'd heard just about every excuse there was to not go into a girl's house at the end of a date,"

She rolled her eyes at him but smiled apologetically up at him, "Speaking of, I'm sorry this date was kind of lame. I don't feel like we did anything at all, all day."

He waved her off, "Nah, it…it wasn't lame. I actually…this was actually the most fun I think I've had in a long time."

Her smile turned relieved, "Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah. You know, uh," he buried his hands in his pockets, "when we…when we were first together, we didn't have to do anything special—we could have fun in a box."

He smiled at her, but she shifted nervously in front of him; she wanted to say something to him.

He bowed a little to catch her eye, "What's on your mind, Short Stack?"

She closed her eyes before just asking, "Did...did you love me?"

Duke froze, feeling his stomach lurch and his heart thud in his chest. He should have known this question would come up eventually; Jennifer was too perceptive, too smart to not arrive at _some_ sort of conclusion about what he felt for her. But the worst part, the absolute _worst_ part; was that he only just _now_ knew the answer to that question.

And here he thought he was being so subtle.

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out on his answer, "Yes."

Jennifer tensed but nodded before asking, "Did…did you tell me?"

Duke sighed and rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. He knew the answer but there was so much more that he wanted to say with it; that things always got in the way, that every time he wanted to it was when one of them was in danger and he didn't want the first time he said it to be when he wasn't sure he was going to see her again.

He regretted it, now though. Everyday that he spent without her, he regretted not telling her.

Instead, he went for a monosyllabic answer, just like his answers to her other questions, "No."

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, "I'm, uh, I'm sorry I asked those questions—I know they probably weren't easy to answer—but I just…Look I had a lot of fun today—like a _lot_ of fun, easily the most fun I think I've had all year and—and I think I like you or that at the very least I _could_ like you and I want to spend enough time with you to figure that out—,"

"Really?" Duke asked, doing little to belie the hope in his voice.

"—_but_," Jennifer continued, trying not to look directly at him, "I…I don't know who I was or who you _think_ I was, but I…"

She paused and let out a slow breath, before continuing, "Duke, I'm not a ghost. And I won't compete with one, so…so if that's what you're expecting, or what you're looking for then…then I don't know where that'll leave us."

Duke studied her as Jennifer caught her breath and looked back at him.

He wanted to choose his words carefully. It hadn't occurred to him that Jennifer would think that he wasn't interested in _this_ her; that he was only chasing a memory. It wasn't an outlandish fear, honestly. And it was one, he realized, that he had already asked himself about.

Was he here for _her_, or for who he _wanted_ her to be?

They stood there, quietly regarding each other for what felt like an eternity before Jennifer said, her voice breaking slightly, "God, could you, um, could you say something, please? I feel like I'm gonna…I'm gonna burst."

Duke ducked down slightly and placed his hands on either side of her neck so that his thumbs stroked her cheeks, "Jennifer from the moment I met you I…being with you had always been a _privilege_. One that I wasn't sure I'd earned; nothing about what we were or are…I am not _entitled_ to you, okay? And I am not…you aren't a ghost. You are…you have always been…" he sighed, trying desperately to get the words right so she'd understand, "It's you. It has always been about you, whether you remember me or not."

Jennifer shifted under his gaze and hands, but placed her hand on his forearm to keep him there, exactly as she'd done a hundred times before. He kept his hands there as he moved his shoulders as he talked, "Now, I _want_ to help you remember, and I will be what_ever_ you want me to be to you as you do; friend, more than a friend, acquaintance, nothing, _whatever_, okay? But I _want_ to be here."

He stared at her for a moment before pulling his hands away and asking, "But, like I said, this is about _you_. So what do _you_ want, Jennifer?"

She let out a cough of a laugh and pressed her right hand to her forehead, "Right now? Maybe a shot of Honey Whiskey."

Duke laughed, bowing his head, and looked back up at her, waiting for her to continue.

She let out a sigh before she carefully reached for his hand again, entwining their fingers, and squeezed it, "I want to _remember_. I want to know why someone would bring me back from the dead. I want to know who or even _what_ I am. But, if we're talking just for this weekend?" She asked, her smile turning sly and a familiar glint appearing in her eyes, "I want to see you again."

He beamed at her, "Yeah?"

She nervously grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged slightly, biting her lip as she smiled at him, "Yeah."

Duke leaned down towards her, eyes trained on her still-slightly-blue lips when the door jingled open, "Auntie Jen! Momma wants to know if you want some hot chocolate?"

Duke sighed while Jennifer released his shirt and turned towards Brielle quickly, "We were just heading inside, okay?"

Brielle beamed at them before going back inside, blissfully unaware of what she'd interrupted. Duke rubbed the back of his neck, knowing there was no saving the moment now, as Jennifer turned to him and gestured towards the door, "We, uh, we should go inside."

Duke nodded and held the door open for her.

"You know," he said, trying to go back to casually flirting with her, "if we're going to see each other again, I should _probably_ have your number."

She just smirked at him as she walked in, Little John bounding off the couch and standing in front of Jennifer, "You didn't need my number to set this up."

He followed after her as she scratched Little John's head, and spoke quietly to him. She was asking Little John if he'd been a good boy and if he'd calmed down since she left, only to receive excited tail wagging and licks from Little John. Duke commented, "Well, maybe I don't want to have to keep having a go-between anymore."

"That you, Jen?" Adelaide called from the kitchenette, "Get in here and tell Holly that the incident with the champagne at her wedding was _not_ my fault!"

"We're coming!" She called back. Little John walked up to Duke and looked up at him expectantly, tail wagging gently at him. There was the smell of onions sautéing coming from the kitchenette, and Duke was suddenly made aware that even with everything else he had eaten that day, he could definitely eat whatever it was that was cooking.

"So what do you say?" Duke asked behind her.

From the kitchenette, Duke heard Adelaide saying, "It wasn't my fault! I wasn't even _there_! And if Desmond were alive, he'd vouch for me!"

"Oh? So _where_ were you?" Holly was saying indignantly.

"Conceiving Brielle!" Adelaide responded, laughing before she had even finished the thought and earning groans and various sounds of disgust from Holly and Joshua.

Jennifer let out a quiet laugh at the conversation happening just on the other side of the beaded curtain before she glanced over her shoulder at him and as she parted the bead curtain to the kitchenette, grinning, "Come have dinner with my family, and I'll give you my number."

Duke grinned back, "I'll take that trade."


	6. Chapter 6

Duke stood back against the wall opposite where the "kitchen" part of the kitchenette was, surveying the myriad of different ingredients that were spread out on the counter, running the gambit from various fresh vegetables, to canned broths, and thawing steaks. He was surprised that they'd had that much food stashed away in their rather diminutive kitchen space, but then again, Jennifer seemed to be no stranger to consolidation and knowing just how to arrange things so everything fits where it needed to. Her room on the Rouge had been shockingly well organized and she'd managed to keep a good portion of her possessions in that small space while still having more than enough room to make it livable.

Jennifer slipped out of her jacket and hung it on one of the coat hooks next to Duke. She glanced at him as she did, and reached for his hand. He took hers and she gave it a gentle squeeze. From her reassuring smile, he assumed she mistook his position against the wall as an expression of his anxiety at coming to dinner with her family. In actuality, it was to give him the best view of the room, to keep an eye on the two people in the room that he had no reason to trust—Joshua and Adelaide. Though, he was pleased by the contact and the fact that she _wanted_ to offer him comfort through touch.

_It's the little things_, he thought as he smiled back at her and returned the gesture, squeezing her fingers back.

Little John trotted passed Duke, his nails _clacking_ on the tiled floor, and went to lie down under the small table just beyond the counter where Holly, Joshua, and Brielle were gathered. Duke studied Joshua briefly. He _wanted_ to trust Holly's little brother, but after his comment earlier that day, he didn't know _what_ to think of the kid. He was making faces at Brielle who was talking enthusiastically about something to him, while Holly gently bounced her on her knees. Jennifer released his hand and went to kiss Adelaide's cheek in greeting, "Hey Cos, what'cha workin' on?"

Jennifer's voice brought his attention back to the women in front of him. Adelaide had her back to Duke as she focused on the stove, bare toes absently curling against the tile as she shifted her weight from one leg to another. She'd shed her leather jacket since the last time he saw her and her bandana, showing off the shaved parts of her head and her dark brown hair that was tucked behind her left ear as she worked.

Without her jacket, her back and shoulders were bare, exposing the full extent of her tattoos from her back and out. He wasn't too surprised to see that the main piece on her back that all the other pieces branched off from was a tree. The trunk of it was right along her spine and the branches only became more distinct along her shoulder blades before being lost in the intricacies of the other pieces. It was impressive, with hardly any "blank space" on, in between, or around the pieces, and looked like she'd been perfecting it for a very long time.

Longer than her age would suggest.

She leaned slightly towards Jennifer to receive the kiss as she answered, "To hell if I know, I started with the onions and now I'm just kinda…y'know, _goin'_."

Jennifer laughed at her as she turned towards the counter and slid a jar of pickles towards her. She opened it and fished a pickle out, crunching on it before commenting, "Oh, that's _all_ we need; you experimenting in the kitchen."

Adelaide glared mockingly at Jennifer over her glasses as she lightly hip-checked her, "Oh get outta here, you're harshin' my cooking vibe. Go see your niece; she's been practicing her sea animal noises _all_ day to show you when you got back. Holly's been losing her shit over the seal bark for some reason."

Adelaide glanced over her shoulder at Duke, "She seemed pretty convinced that you'd understand why."

Duke rolled his eyes at that, and risked a glance towards Holly, who was already looking at him. She grinned at him, which only made Duke make the face he'd learned from Jennifer at her. Holly snickered as she looked back towards Joshua.

Jennifer was giving him a confused but anticipatory look. He just shook his head at her, but when her expression held steady at him he just mouthed, "Later" to her. She arched an eyebrow at him, but seemed to accept it as she finished her pickle. She made her way around the counter to the small table where Joshua, Holly, and Brielle were.

She smiled at Duke, her skepticism and brief distrust set aside, as she walked passed him, licking the juice from her fingers, and brushing passed him. It was a small space to be sure, but not so small that she _needed_ to pass that closely to him, and the glint in her eyes told him that Jennifer knew it. Duke smiled back down at her, groaning internally at the gesture and at her proximity, and watched after her as she approached the table. Jennifer made some sort of comment about the conversation being had at the table. Brielle turned from her spot on Holly's lap at the sound of Jennifer's voice and her whole face lit up when she saw Jennifer walking towards them, excitedly greeting her and talking rapidly about all the things she saw at the aquarium as she reached up for Jennifer to pick her up.

"I'm going to sound like more of a mother than I bargained for by asking this but: I take it you're staying for dinner, Duke?" Adelaide asked over her shoulder to Duke as she moved the onions around briefly in their pan.

"And I'm going to sound more like a nervous teenager meeting the Mom of my date than _I_ bargained for by answering: If I can, Ma'am." Duke answered, only glancing at her briefly before continuing to look at Jennifer as she picked Brielle up from Holly's lap so that she could sit with her. Adelaide laughed, commenting that she was far too young for anyone to be calling her "Ma'am" and that doing so wasn't going to earn him any sort of points with her.

Jennifer turned to pull out and take the seat next to Holly on the side of the table closest to the kitchenette, her skirt twirling gently against her legs with the movement. She turned the chair so that she faced towards Holly and could see into the kitchen area slightly as she sat. Little John briefly raised his head as Jennifer moved the chair, tail thudding against the floor as he watched Jennifer, before he let his head flop back down onto Joshua's feet, sighing heavily as he did.

Once she and Brielle were situated, she glanced towards Duke, smiling when she saw that he was already looking at her. She looked back at Brielle before he could smile back, a blush coloring her cheeks even as she exaggerated her awe at whatever fact or story it was that Brielle was telling her. He'd always enjoyed the discrepancy in the things she'd blush at: sucking her fingers at him did nothing, but catching him looking at her caused the most beautiful shade of pink to color her pale skin.

"Holly—well, I guess I really heard it from Jennifer first—but they tell me you own a bar, is that right? _The Gray Gull_?" Adelaide was saying to him now.

Duke nodded in response, pulling his focus back to Adelaide, "That's, uh, that's right, yeah."

"As well as…oh, how did Holly put it?" She paused in her work, letting her head tilt back to look at the ceiling before rolling it on her shoulders to look at him, "'Transporting certain items for a select clientele'?"

He regarded her briefly, crossing his arms, "Something like that."

Adelaide smirked at him, eyebrow quirking at his gesture but continuing, "Quite the businessman, then."

Duke just nodded slightly towards her, offering her a small, tight-lipped smile.

She turned back to the stove and spoke over her shoulder to him, "But in regards to your bar; do you _actually_ know your way around a kitchen or is that for someone else to worry about?"

She turned the heat down on for the onions, turned the oven on, and started surveying the things she had on the counter, apparently formulating a plan about what to do next.

"I've been known to successfully cook on my own; without a fire extinguisher and _everything_," Duke answered casually, uncrossing his arms and already moving to stand next to her. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to get ready to help however he could. He didn't really know who (or what, if he was being honest with himself) Adelaide was or what part she played in what had happened or was happening to Jennifer, but if her invitation to help her cook meant anything, it meant she wanted to talk. More importantly, she wanted to talk to _him_.

_So let's talk_, he thought as Adelaide chuckled at his joke. She cleared a cutting board for him and handed him a knife and vegetable peeler.

"Why don't you start in on cutting…_these_," she grabbed the bag of carrots and celery and placed them in front of him, "They've already been washed, you just have to peel the carrots and then get started on cutting them—julienne, if you can—while I start figuring out what kind of spices I want to put on the steaks here."

"How many do you want cut?" Duke asked, picking up the vegetable peeler and grabbing the bag of carrots.

Adelaide shrugged, "Uh…I dunno. Enough? I'm really just making this up as I go along. Does three sound like a good number?"

Duke shrugged, "It's your kitchen, Chef. Just tell me what to do."

She sighed and rubbed at her buzzed head. She regarded everything on the counter for a moment before saying, "Three or four should about do it. Joshua's got a bottomless pit for a stomach so who _knows_ how much he'll eat."

"I can _hear_ you, y'know." Joshua called from the table, earning a chuckle from Adelaide.

Adelaide looked back at Duke, gesturing briefly to the counter, "We good?"

Duke nodded and set to work as Adelaide rummaged through the corner cabinet above the microwave and started pulling out various spice shakers. Once they were placed on the counter, she grabbed a flat metal pan and tinfoil to cook the steaks on in the oven, just as the stove beeped to say that it was heated up. Duke switched places with her briefly so that he stood in front of the sink and started peeling the carrots. Through the gap between the cabinets and the counter, Duke could only see the people at the table from about their shoulders down to their midsection. He saw Brielle's torso positioned on Jennifer's lap and he could hear her doing fairly accurate animal impressions. She was doing a rather impressive rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" as a seal to the amusement of Holly, who was laughing so hard she was actually slapping her knee.

"So. You're Jennifer's cousin?" Duke asked over his shoulder to Adelaide, focusing on the task in front of him. Adelaide nodded, humming a response in the affirmative for him, prompting Duke to continue, "It's funny, but my memory's a bit, uh," he held the vegetable peeler close to his temple and moved it in a circular motion there, "_fuzzy_ when it comes to what Jennifer told me about you."

She smirked, "I could say the same about you."

Duke's jaw twitched in mild agitation but he kept a cap on it, choosing instead to peel the carrots with more gusto than was probably necessary, "Touché. That seems to be happening a lot around here lately, though."

Adelaide chuckled, "Must be something in the water."

Duke paused. That was the phrase Jennifer had used earlier, when she was talking about Little John. He tried to just chalk it up as a coincidence, but his guard was slowly starting to come up. He looked over his shoulder at her expectantly, "You wanna give me a refresher course on what I seem to have missed on _The Life and Times of Jennifer and Adelaide_?"

Adelaide shrugged, chuckling lightly at him, as she started pouring the spices she selected into a small bowl to mix them together, "Well the Made-For-TV-Movie short version is that we're cousins on our mothers' sides and that we're all that's left of the Mason/Bouquin lines."

Duke glanced at her, "And the Director's Cut long version?"

Adelaide started to rub down the steaks on the flat metal pan with the spice mixture and gave him a sideways glance, smirking at his joke, "Just a _bit_ fuzzy, huh?"

Duke shrugged dismissively, "What can I say? A year's a long time."

"Depends on who you ask," Adelaide said quietly enough that Duke almost missed it; the animated conversation the group at the table was having didn't help either. Once again, his instincts told him something was off, and his guard rose just the slightest bit higher. He glanced back towards the table, trying to check on Jennifer, and while he couldn't see her clearly, he could hear her.

Jennifer and Holly were now reminiscing about something from the trip to Europe that had introduced them, and laughing at shared jokes and stories from the trip, while Brielle seemed to have leaned back against Jennifer's body, apparently struggling to keep her eyes open. She sounded fine—happy even, and relaxed. He tried to let her calm influence him, but if anything it made him more nervous; why didn't Jennifer feel it? Jennifer, apparently noticing Brielle's exhaustion and unaware of Duke's defensiveness, asked Joshua to go find a hairbrush for her so that she could work on undoing the braids in Brielle's hair.

Joshua made his way passed the kitchen and exchanged a look with Adelaide. There was a litany of micro-expressions that crossed over Joshua's face, apparently in response to whatever he was seeing on Adelaide's face. It appeared they were having an entire conversation without saying a single word before Joshua continued out of the kitchenette. Duke took note of the exchange, thinking there must be something _there_ between Adelaide and Joshua, something that had to be beyond a platonic relationship, but decided to wait before asking anything about that; right now Adelaide seemed willing to share with him what Jennifer's life with her had been like, and that took precedent over everything else.

_Know your enemy._ He thought, B_ut know for certain whether or not they actually_ are _your enemy first_.

And so far, Adelaide kept acting like she had one foot on their side—on _Jennifer's_ side, and another on the side of whoever it was that was working against them. It was a position Duke was familiar with, but he also knew that one way or another, those sides pull you towards them.

Or they tear you a part.

Adelaide rolled her shoulders, "Our mothers were sisters, and both of our fathers were only children so we've always been each other's only family. Laetitia, the younger of the two, married Noël Bouquin and was my mother. Imogen, the oldest, married Arthur Mason and was Jennifer's adoptive mom. Our grandparents died before either of us were born, so for a time our family gatherings were just our parents, then it was them and Jennifer, then me, and then finally, my little brother, Robbie."

As they switched places, Duke having peeled a satisfying number of carrots and Adelaide having placed enough steaks on the pan to feed everyone, Duke was struck with how seamlessly they seemed to be able to move around each other. There was a strange sense of familiarity from being around Adelaide, as if they had known each other for years rather than just a few hours. He wondered if it had something to do with whoever had given Jennifer to her, if it was part of her ploy or her camouflage to get Jennifer and anyone else in her life to trust her; to do what she needed to do, whatever that was—was that why Jennifer didn't seem to think anything was wrong?

Duke tried to push that thought to the side for now; he didn't like the idea of Jennifer's ease and trust being just another fabrication—He didn't like the implications of how far or deep the people-who-took-her's influence was over her or her situation. Duke looked back at Adelaide briefly, trying to glean some further insight into her. Regardless of anything else he suspected of the woman, Duke was positive about one thing: there was no way Adelaide was just a _normal_ human woman.

There was something unsettlingly easy about being around her. He'd met other people who, like her, inspired a feeling of seamlessness in their interactions with other people, often to inspire trust in their marks. It didn't help his suspicions that he'd only met the majority of those other people in some of his "below board" lines of work, and they were always better to have as friends than as enemies. What side Adelaide fell on remained to be seen.

As he reflected on some of the other people like Adelaide he'd met who'd been so easy to be around and adapt to, he realized that he'd experienced this same ease "above board;" with Jennifer. Something in that thought unsettled him the most; he didn't like what that could imply about _what_ Jennifer was.

"Holly didn't mention a brother." Duke commented as he began to julienne the carrots and as Adelaide placed the pan into the oven, focusing back on the conversation at hand and forcing his suspicions and increasing desire to get Jennifer the hell _away_ from the shop into the backseat of his mind.

Sadness and regret flickered across Adelaide's face, distracting her from the question about why he'd mention Holly over Jennifer talking about their family that Duke expected her to ask, before she steeled her features, unintentionally letting the oven door slam closed.

The noise caused the conversation at the table to stop abruptly, and Little John to sit up, _oofing_ and growling slightly at the noise. Duke's grip on the knife tightened, preparing to use it for something other than chopping vegetables and he could see Jennifer and Holly jump and turn towards the kitchenette, trying to look towards them as Joshua walked back in.

Adelaide let out a slow breath; closing her eyes and trying to get her body relax. Once she had reined in her emotions, she crouched and tried to smile back at Holly and Jennifer through the gap between the cabinets and the counter. He imagined Jennifer had offered her a nervous smile in return, which was enough to make Adelaide feel comfortable enough to stand straight again. She rolled her shoulders again to relax herself further as she said quietly to him, "You're getting ahead of me."

There was a pause as Joshua and Adelaide looked at each other again, having yet another conversation without saying a word to each other, before he moved to join Holly and Jennifer back at the table. He handed the brush to Jennifer who thanked him quietly as he took his seat opposite her and Holly. Holly cleared her throat as she turned back to the table and as Jennifer began to work the left braid out of Brielle's hair. Holly tried to pick the conversation back up and, carefully, they started talking again.

Little John stayed at attention long enough for Jennifer to start talking with Holly again, before shifting so that he was closer to Jennifer and slowly lying back down. His head still turned towards the kitchen, ears still perked in the direction of the kitchen, and came to rest on Jennifer's foot. She must've looked down towards him because Duke heard her coo quietly to him, trying to tell him it was all right. He only glanced at her, tail wagging slightly as she spoke, but he didn't move or seem to really relax.

_That's a good dog_, Duke thought briefly, impressed by how protective Little John was of Jennifer, before turning his attention back to Adelaide.

"I'm sorry." Duke said quietly to Adelaide, his grip loosening on the knife. He knew that there were only a few reasons why someone would give the response that she had and he felt like a tool for bringing it up.

Adelaide shrugged, smirking sadly, "Now you're getting a head of _your_self."

He studied her a moment, reading her body language to get a read on what she was thinking. Her body language was relaxed, lost in her memories of the family she'd lost, and while her features showed that she missed them, she looked like she was pleased to talk about them, his most recent mistake aside. Whatever else he managed to glean about Adelaide's character as the night progressed, he wouldn't be able to say that she hadn't experienced great loss, or that she hadn't loved those that she had lost.

Another silence fell between them as Duke finished the carrots and started on the celery. Adelaide washed her hands in the sink and ran the garbage disposal to get rid of the carrot peels from when Duke had been working there previously. It was loud and intrusive on their silence, and apparently gave Adelaide the opening she needed to speak.

"My mother died when I was ten," Adelaide said as she went back to stirring the onions, "Robbie was about eight and Jennifer was twelve—Mom had always had a weak heart—they used to say it was a miracle that she was able to give birth twice and Mom would joke that she only needed one more to be considered a saint and then we'd be living the "good life"—I was never sure if that meant she wanted another child or if she was just waiting for some other "miracle" to happen in her life."

She paused before shaking her head at whatever memory or thought that had come up and continued, "Dad would get on her _all_ the time about it though; she was always pushing herself too hard and too far—he used to try to throw some statistic about how women were supposed to live longer than men but at the rate she was going, she was going to put them both in an early grave. But she insisted on keeping up with Robbie and me—if there was something either of us were involved in, Mom was there, basically doing it with us. Dad was going gray by the time I was six; Mom stressed him out _that_ badly—I, uh, I don't know if he ever really forgave himself for being right."

Her way of speaking about personal things—loss in particular—was so similar to how Jennifer spoke about it, Duke could almost believe that they _were_ related.

Adelaide shifted in front of the stove from one leg to the other, "After Mom died, Robbie and I spent a lot of time out at Aunt Imogen and Uncle Artie's, and, of course, with Jennifer. Jennifer kind of took on a 'big sister' role for us; making sure we were keeping up in school, getting enough sleep, somehow just knowing when we'd had a nightmare, staying up with us if we couldn't sleep—y'know, shit like that. She…you know, her parents could handle what they saw of Robbie's and my mourning, but they…they understood Dad's better somehow—they tried to be careful with us, since they knew that we were impressionable or whatever and I'll always be appreciative of them for that—but a kid can only be treated like she'd made of glass for so long before it stops being helpful. Jennifer took the brunt of what was actually happening—she didn't sugar coat things for me or Robbie, or if she did, she made sure it was for our benefit and not just because she felt sorry for us, God love her."

"Sounds like her," Duke said quietly behind her, "Always offering help beyond herself."

She let out half a laugh as she nodded and paused briefly, collecting her thoughts. She continued, "Dad…Dad got really lost without Mom. He threw himself into what work he could here at the shop—it was actually during that time that he built a lot of the domestic elements here; the kitchenette, the loft upstairs, the plumbing, all of it."

"I've never heard of a bookstore owner who sided in construction," Duke commented, sliding the cutting board over to her.

She picked up the cutting board and began to scrape the carrots and celery into the pan with the onions, which certainly wouldn't have been Duke's first thought to do with them, but then again, it wasn't his kitchen.

She smirked, "No, and he certainly wasn't either. A contractor, that is. Thankfully, he was clear headed enough to hire a company to help him with the major stuff. Working with the contractors and getting this place to be more profitable, it…it helped to _focus_ him, y'know? Kept him from fixating on the past and his loss."

"Just his?" Duke asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

She turned and pointed the wooden spatula she'd been using to stir the vegetables with the onions around at him menacingly, "Don't you try to psychoanalyze _me_, buddy. I'm not even done with your 'refresher course' yet."

Duke held his hands up in mock surrender as he propped his hip against the counter. As Adelaide turned back to her cooking, he ducked down to look at the group at the table, leaning across the counter. They'd been rather quiet since the oven door slammed closed. Holly and Joshua seemed to be playing a card game and if the collection of loose change and small bills around her was any indication, Holly was cleaning house. Duke made a mental note to _never_ play against Holly—at least not for money.

Jennifer had only managed to really brush out the left side of Brielle's hair. It fell all the way down her back in black waves and it was taking Jennifer some time to brush it all out. He could only see the side of Brielle's face, so he couldn't be sure the complete extent of her exhaustion, but her shoulders were sagging and her whole body swayed back and forth gently when Jennifer ran the brush through her hair. Duke could tell she was struggling to stay awake. Jennifer stayed focused on brushing her hair, and even though he couldn't hear it, he was almost certain she was humming something. Little John still had his head on her foot, but his eyes had closed at some point, and he was sleeping peacefully next to his mistress. Jennifer finished brushing out the left side of Brielle's head and moved to work out the right braid. As she gently worked her fingers through the braid there, she glanced up at Duke, apparently feeling his eyes on her, and smiled sheepishly at him.

He smiled back at her as Adelaide continued, crouching in front of the oven with a pair of tongs and opening the door, "We all had our ways of coping, Duke; Dad with his construction, Robbie…basically shut down to everyone—whether it was Dad, Aunt Imogen, Jennifer, _me_—he and Mom were very close and he just got…_despondent_ without her—and I…I had my anger. It didn't matter what, who, or even _why_, I was _pissed_ and _everyone_ was going to know it."

Adelaide flipped the steaks over in their pan, glancing briefly over her shoulder at him, "I imagine Jennifer mentioned that I was kind of a scrapper when we were little?"

Duke stood from the counter and looked back at Adelaide, "She mentioned that you'd get into fights with the neighbor kids when you'd visit her and that she would fight with you when you would. She claimed to be the, uh," he held his hands up to mime quotation marks at her, "'Lightweight Champion of Camden Street'."

"_Reigning_ Lightweight Champion of Camden Street." Came the correction from the table.

Adelaide chuckled as she closed the oven, careful not to let it slam this time, "Jen, you're an _adult_; I think it's time to forfeit the title—you certainly can't go back there and _defend_ it."

"Uh-uh," he heard Jennifer negate, sounding like a child, "Once a champ, _always_ a champ. And who says I couldn't teach those little twerps a thing or two?"

"Wow, I don't think I've heard anyone use the word 'twerp' in years," Duke commented, chuckling at her. Jennifer crouched slightly in her seat to look at him and made a face, only earning another chuckle from him.

Adelaide shook her head as she stirred the vegetables again, over her shoulder she asked Duke to hand her the bag of rice on the counter. He did and when he was close enough that she was sure only he would hear her, she mumbled to him, "Don't tell her—'cause she'll never forgive me—but the fight that gave her that title was against _me_ and I threw it because I knew how important it was to her."

Duke mimed zipping his lips closed to her and she smiled appreciatively at him as she continued, "Anyway. Yes. I was angry as a child after we lost Mom. And before the peanut gallery at the table can comment _again_, I will admit that I was angry into puberty as well."

There were muted snickers from the table, which only seemed to prove Adelaide's point, making her roll her eyes as she continued, "And I was even _angrier_ when Jennifer went on her trip to Europe, where she was having fun and was seeing the world and was making friends and changing _more_ after so many _other_ changes had happened, and left me alone—without the system of support that I guess I'd become dependent on—for a month. So when she got back I was extra frosty towards her—to the point that I think I actually refused to see her a couple of times. But when Uncle Artie died…" she sighed, "it's cruel and unfair, but that was my wake up call. I realized that my anger was selfish and that I was hurting the people around me because of it when we were _all_ hurting enough already. My anger kept me from seeing that Robbie needed help—Jennifer saw it, of course; she always seemed to be able to see what everyone else was missing—but, then again, we were all so blinded we just…"

She trailed off as she shook her head, letting the thought go, "My anger kept me from getting to really know my father, and it created more unnecessary tension in my family—it very nearly destroyed my relationship with Jennifer."

"I never blamed you for anything from that time, Adelaide." Jennifer commented from the table, "We were all pretty off-kilter when Aunt Laetitia died. Even more so after Mom and I lost Dad."

Adelaide measured out a couple of cups of rice into a medium-sized pot and measured out water for it as well, eyeballing it as she placed the pot under the running faucet, and sighed, "That's no excuse, Jen. You were only trying to help—like you always, _always_ do—and trying to move forward with your life after being held down by me and _my_ damage and I was being a petulant, shithead fourteen year old and—,"

"Adelaide." Jennifer sighed, a tired finalization in her tone. Duke got the feeling that this was a conversation they'd had many times and that the end result never changed.

"That's quite a mature wake up call for a fourteen year old," Duke pointed out, hoping to stop the argument before it began.

Adelaide shrugged, "I grew up a lot for a fourteen year old. I had to. We all did."

She paused again, lost in her thoughts. Duke heard Jennifer singing softly to Brielle in the kitchen but he still couldn't determine the song, as Adelaide sighed, "Anyway. Robbie and I stayed at the house with Jennifer and Aunt Imogen for awhile after that—Dad couldn't be too far away from the shop with all the construction, and even though we couldn't do much, we wanted to be there for Jennifer—Well, _I_ did, and I'm sure in his own way Robbie did too he just wasn't as, uh, _determined_ about it as I was. Holly was there for a while too—dear heart in there," she nodded towards the table and Holly, "drove two _hours_ to Jennifer's house after she heard about it—she and Jennifer had hardly been friends for six months by then but the _second_ she heard about it she dropped everything and was just…_there_—once she got there, she helped do whatever she could to keep the house moving and Jennifer balanced."

Her tone softened as she added, "When people would ask who Holly was, Aunt Imogen would just answer, 'She's family'; that was how I knew how important Holly was to them. To _us_."

She raised her voice slightly to make sure the "peanut gallery" could hear her as she set the pot on the stove to get the water boiling, "I think that was when Holly and I first officially met and bonded—though I'm sure in one of those times I refused to see Jennifer, if I hadn't been such an aforementioned petulant shithead teenager, I would've met her sooner. But I'm glad we did—I don't know if I would've been able to keep Jennifer's _and_ Aunt Imogen's heads above water on my own—hell I was barely keeping my _own_ head above water at the time."

"You would've been fine, Lady, and you know it." Holly called back.

"Not how I was, Hol," Adelaide sighed to herself as she rubbed the buzzed part of her head and leaned back against the counter. She grabbed the tongs again and crouched in front of the stove to flip the steaks again.

"Time passed, as it often and cruelly does. I met Desmond Rousseau, Brielle's father, when I was sixteen; total high school sweethearts, sappy love story—,"

"Oh, they were _gross_!" Jennifer laughed.

"Absolute puppy love that _never_ faltered." Holly conceded.

Duke faintly heard Brielle giggle, and mumble something. He heard Jennifer whisper something back to her. He imagined it was a question or a comment about her father that Jennifer answered or agreed to. Duke imagined that, if she'd been given the chance, Brielle would've been quite the "Daddy's Little Princess" type. She was quite clearly a Momma's Girl, and he could only imagine that that'd be twice the case with her father.

Adelaide stood back up, closing the oven door again, and stirred the vegetables. She turned to her left and, grabbing the soy sauce on the counter, poured some into the pan, keeping the heat low and calling to Jennifer and Holly, "If you're _quite_ finished?"

They only snickered back, letting her continue, "Yes. So. Sixteen, basically met the love of my life—as you can tell from the tattoos—things were looking up: I'd finally convinced Dad to let Robbie go to counseling, Robbie got put on anti-depressants, Jennifer was going off to her dream college to get a degree in her dream field, Desmond and I were apparently being "gross"—For two years, we were all living our dreams and moving forward with our lives." She paused, smiling as she let herself remember. She sighed, her features darkening, and continued, "And then when I was eighteen, my dad died."

"Jesus," Duke mumbled. No wonder Holly had said she'd seen enough mourning to know what it looked like; it didn't seem like there had been a year in their lives that wasn't marred by death.

What the hell were the people who took Jennifer trying to _do_ by putting her here? By giving her _these_ memories? He sighed at himself. But then again, was being alone and thinking she was crazy any better?

Adelaide nodded as she checked the rice, letting out a bitter chuckle, "Yeah, fuckin' tell me about it. It was an accident too, if you can believe that; he tripped and fell and hit the back of his head on the corner of the coffee table. He'd been reading and walking—a habit of his that had usually been fine but not this time, apparently. I'd been out with Desmond—we'd been doing that a lot at the time; he was going away, we wanted to spend more time together, yada yada yada—but, uh, but Robbie was home. He…he was asleep—before they got his dosage really figured out, the pills would do that to him just—," she snapped her fingers for effect as her voice got a little panicked and she start speaking rapidly; something that reminded Duke of Jennifer, "—knocked him right out. He…Robbie was the one who found him, he—he got up because he was hungry and then he saw Dad there and he called me in a panic and I didn't know what to tell him besides calling nine-one-one but it was too late and—,"

She let out a slow breath, pulling herself back together. Duke noted that this was easily the third time she'd allowed herself to be seen by him as vulnerable and that it was also the third time she'd taken the time to rebuild herself in front of him. If he were in Adelaide's position, he definitely wouldn't have let that happen to begin with, let alone multiple times. Yet from the moment he stepped into her kitchen, she was willing to show her hand to him, to let him know what Jennifer's new reality looked like and consisted of. She either truly was on his and Jennifer's side, she was manipulating them, or she was just quite possibly the dumbest opponent he'd ever encountered. And in all honestly, he wasn't sure which option he preferred.

She clicked off the burners on the stove, moving the pot and pan to the back set of burners to free up the front, and crouched to check the steaks again as she continued, trying to keep her voice steady, "God I make our lives sound like they were just one funeral after the next. That's not true, of course; there were plenty of bright moments, _good_ moments among all that death, sadness, and just general negativity, I promise. Would you believe that we'd go whole years without a single devastating thing happening to us?"

"Not at the rate you've been going," Duke commented.

She chuckled slightly, still crouched in front of the stove, "I know. But the good points are more fun to bring up in the moment, y'know? Happiness strengthening happiness. Besides, you _did_ ask for the Emotional Baggage Highlight Reel; and this is the only stuff I feel like is even my place to share."

"I don't think 'Emotional Baggage Highlight Reel' was how I phrased it." Duke retorted.

She turned towards him enough to jokingly make a face at him, "So sue me for slander, Businessman."

Duke's jaw twitched at the nickname but he tried not to make it obvious as Adelaide stood. If she noticed the twitch, she didn't make it obvious as she picked up where she'd left off, "So there I was, technically an adult and beneficiary to my dad's will—he had been paranoid enough after Mom's death to have one, which was probably for the best, all things considered—and a choice: I could either sell the shop and use the money to help Robbie _and_ me through college with a potentially cushy nest egg for the both of us. _Or_ I could keep alive the one thing both of my parents struggled for and loved just as much as they loved us, only send Robbie to college, and put whatever I managed to keep making from the shop into a trust fund for a _very_ rainy day."

"And when you put it like _that_…" Duke commented, already knowing what her decision had been; he was standing in it.

She grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pan from the oven, turning it off as she went. As she placed it on the stove, she chuckled lightly, "Basically. So I canceled the lease we had on the apartment we'd been living in, moved Robbie and me into the loft upstairs—though part of it was to just get Robbie out of that place; he couldn't walk passed the living room without basically having a panic attack—and I did my best to keep the store running and Robbie in school until he went off to college—he got accepted to University of Massachusetts and, you know, I thought he'd want to go to the campus that was close to the store but he wanted _Amherst_—claimed he needed a change of scenery and his therapist agreed so, you know, what the hell do _I_ know. Anyway. Time continued to pass. Jennifer finished her undergrad, and started work on her Masters—like the overachiever she is,"

He heard Jennifer chuckle from the table.

Adelaide heard it too and smiled as she continued, "Desmond went to college and when he graduated, we got married."

She turned to grab plates from a cabinet and smirked at Duke's surprised expression, "Oh, don't give me that look; I had enough of it from Desmond's parents—who never approved of me to begin with."

Duke gave her a confused look, "Why didn't they?"

Adelaide sighed, "Oh Jesus, fucking _pick_ a reason: my highest education was a G.E.D., both my parents were dead, I was a—," she raised hands and mimed quotation marks at him, "—'bad influence' on their son, I offered Desmond a life different from what they wanted for him—just a lot of bullshit reasons that made me have to fight to keep Brielle from them after Desmond died—which they only did to hurt me and literally _everyone_ knew—but now, of course, they won't even fucking _acknowledge_ her."

She let out a slow breath to try to get her anger under control, "But I don't regret it; our marriage, Brielle, any of it—Hell, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."

She opened a drawer and started rummaging for silverware. Duke hadn't said anything in a long enough time that Adelaide glanced at him. She smiled at something she saw in Duke's expression, "Duke, I'd known death most of my life; I wasn't going to—and I still will _not_—let the one thing that made me feel alive go,"

She gave Duke a meaningful look, "I'm sure you can understand that."

Duke gave her a confused look, something in how she'd looked at him made his guard and agitation rise back up towards her, but before he could ask what she meant by that, she pushed on, "We were married for five years before Desmond died of a brain tumor—maybe one day I'll tell you about how his family tried to blame _that_ on me too."

To that, there were barely muted disbelieving noises from the table. Apparently the treatment of Adelaide by her in-laws was still a raw nerve with the group at the table.

Adelaide smirked but continued, "But that was about three years ago—Brielle was only three at the time. _Five_ years ago we lost Aunt Imogen to breast cancer. And then two years before _that_, Robbie went off of his meds and…and, he, uh,"

Her voice broke as she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to calm herself down, but she couldn't finish the thought. The whole room got tense at the mention of Robbie. Even Little John, who had woken up at the sound of silverware hitting the plates, was back at the same level of attention he'd been at the oven door slamming.

She sighed, her voice breaking, "You know, he _really_ loved college? He was almost done with his undergrad and he wanted to be a psychologist. He was thinking about looking into art therapy and counseling—he was looking into _graduate_ programs. And he kept telling me that he was so _happy_ and I should've seen what was happening, I should've gone to see him more often, I should've _done_ something and he…"

"Lady, there wasn't…" came a quiet voice from the table.

Another, gentler voice saying, "Della, it wasn't…"

Adelaide cleared her throat, quieting the voices at the table. She looked at Duke and tried to smirk at him, even as her voice broke slightly again, "And that's what you missed on _Glee_, the Director's Cut."

Duke nodded, smirking at her joke, before carefully commenting, "That's a hell of a lot of death for one life time."

Adelaide nodded, smirking slightly as if she'd found something about what he said funny, and started building a plate for the group in the dining area, "Yes. Yes it is. _Which_ is why I cling to and protect whatever light my life lets me have."

She gave Duke yet another meaningful look, "I imagine you can understand that."

Duke furrowed his brow at her, not liking her tone. Twice she'd made that comment, and twice his agitation had flared at her about it. He'd figured that he should assume that she knew more than enough about him to be dangerous if she so chose, but that didn't mean she had to lord it over him. He caught himself before he did or said something he'd regret and instead just sighed back, "Yeah. Probably more than most people."

They regarded each other momentarily. Duke tried to keep his own body language neutral as he regarded her. He kept trying to get a read on her, on what she was thinking or planning, only to keep coming back to the same conclusion he had when he'd first walked into the shop; he didn't know.

And he didn't like not knowing.

Adelaide was giving him a small, pleased smile that reminded him of Jennifer's. Whatever it was that she was seeing in him, that she _kept_ seeing in him, she was very pleased by it. But what the hell did that _mean_? And why was she dropping these hints that she knew Duke better than she was letting on? And why be willing to tell him all this? With an audience consisting of the concerned party, no less? What was she _doing_?

Jennifer's comment from earlier rang in his head, "Who knows why Adelaide does _anything_."

"So. Any particular reason why it's only Desmond's name in all your tattoos? Or is it just to piss off your in-laws that much more?" Duke asked, gesturing vaguely towards her torso and the tattoos there, trying to change the subject and to hopefully glean some more information about _her_ based on her answers.

She laughed at that, "That's certainly always been a bonus."

He managed a smirk at her, "I'll bet. It's just that usually when people lose that many people, especially in a family as close as yours apparently was—_is_—they have more tribute pieces for them; it looks like you only have Desmond."

Amusement lit up Adelaide's green eyes as she placed a full plate on the far end of the counter to be taken to the table. She turned her left wrist over to show the scripted name, "Desmond," written there. She pulled off her wedding ring to reveal a tattoo of two black bands entwined around her finger, "Desmond…Desmond was my…he was my _heart_, y'know? Like…I didn't know anything about my life or my future when I met him or when we first started dating, but I _knew_ he was going to be there no matter what I did. I guess I…When we first got married, instead of a honeymoon we got our tattoos and we, heh, we made it our thing that in all our pieces, the other's name would be in it. He used to say that we needed _some_ way of making sure that the world knew we were…each other's."

"Sounds like quite a guy." Duke commented, smiling at her.

She let out a small laugh, "You don't know the half of it."

She ran the thumb of her right hand over the tattoo on her wrist, "It's been a long time since I've…when I lost Desmond I just kept getting tattoos—on his birthday, on mine, on Brielle's—and I just hadn't—I just _haven't_—,"

She let out another slow breath, something she was getting very familiar with as their conversation progressed, "He…he always made me feel _strong_, y'know? Safe. And I just…I see his name and I feel that again. Like an armor I never take off."

She paused, sliding her ring back on to her finger, "But I _do_ have something for my family. I just chose to keep the rest of them closer; they are _my_ family, after all. No one else's. Besides, most people don't know what to do with a woman who wears her wounds so blatantly."

Duke's eyebrow twitched upward at her phrasing. Three times now she'd done that. More than enough times to throw out the hopeful possibility of coincidence, he knew.

She turned to him and carefully pulled down part of her romper to show off a large tattoo of an anatomically correct, gray scale heart over the place on her chest where her heart would lie under her ribs. The heart had names written on it in typewriter font, similar to the business card that had led Duke here the night before.

"Imogen," "Laetitia," "Artie," "Noël," "Robbie," "Jennifer," "Holly," "Joshua," "Desmond," and "Brielle"—they were all there. He noticed, though, that the names didn't take up all the space of the heart, and asked her about it.

Her smile turned fond as she readjusted the upper part of her romper, "That's the point; there's always room for more people in our hearts, Duke, even if we've been hurt."

Jennifer walked passed them with Brielle asleep against her shoulder, with Little John still staying close to her and trailing behind her.

"Speaking of our hearts," Adelaide commented quietly, her features softening further, cutting off whatever comment Duke could've made to that.

Duke turned to Jennifer and he went to touch her elbow in an effort to make sure she was all right, to reassure himself that she was real and there, but caught himself as Adelaide walked passed him.

"_There's_ my baby girl—I knew she wasn't gonna make it to dinner," Adelaide said quietly to Jennifer as she ran her fingers through Brielle's brushed out hair, her other hand on Jennifer's shoulder. Little John looked between them with his tail wagging slightly as he did. Adelaide moved to take Brielle from Jennifer, "I can take her up, Jen,"

Jennifer shook her head, "Oh, don't worry about it, Della; you worked so hard on—," "All this talk about the past…" Adelaide interrupted, running her fingers through Brielle's hair again, "I just…I _need_ some time with my baby."

Jennifer studied her for a moment before she nodded, passing Brielle off to her. Once she was in her mother's arms, she nuzzled her face in the crook of Adelaide's neck and Adelaide placed a kiss on top of Brielle's head.

Jennifer rubbed Adelaide's arm, asking quietly, "You okay, Cos?"

Adelaide's features softened further as she looked at Jennifer for a moment. She shifted Brielle to her hip as she reached out and ran her fingers through Jennifer's hair. She pressed her hand against the back of her head, causing her to tilt it forward, and pressed her forehead to Jennifer's, "I'm good, Cos. I'm good."

Jennifer studied her for a moment more before nodding and kissing Brielle's head. Adelaide shifted her again and tilted her head back towards the kitchenette, "Go. Eat. Duke and I didn't _slave_ over a hot stove to let that meal go to waste."

Jennifer just grinned back at her, straightening, "Oh yeah, you were _really_ putting Duke through his paces in there—I mean, _julienning_ the vegetables? I'm surprised he didn't _sprain_ something."

"Oh, I'm_ exhausted_, she's _easily_ the most difficult boss I've had to work with," Duke commented, grinning at Jennifer over Adelaide's shoulder.

"Don't—She doesn't need _help_," Adelaide glared at him over her shoulder.

"Of course she doesn't," Duke agreed, "That was more for me."

"Ah yes," Jennifer grinned, her eyes sparkling in amusement up at him, "The true test of a date: Does he tease my cousin with me?"

Adelaide rolled her eyes at Jennifer, walking passed her and smacking Jennifer on her ass as she went, "Yeah, whatever smart ass."

Jennifer swatted at her hand, laughing at her and taking a step closer to Duke, as Adelaide called over her shoulder, "There's some red wine in the fridge if anyone wants some."

Duke just barely caught her singing the first few words of a song before she was too far away to hear clearly, "_There's a handwritten note…_"

Little John, apparently figuring out that there was no food to be had immediately from anyone in the kitchen, turned back towards the table and laid back down under it, keeping his body turned toward the kitchen and his eyes on Jennifer as best he could.

Jennifer smiled up at Duke as she took a couple of steps towards him, "Hi."

He grinned back down at her, deciding to risk reaching out and rubbing her upper arm lightly with his knuckles, "Hey."

She kept smiling back up at him, her eyes sliding half closed, as if she wanted to savor his touch, and moved closer to him. He didn't think he could handle feeling anymore of her skin than what his knuckles were brushing just yet; but even what he _could_ feel was more than enough for him right now. Still soft, still smooth, still…perfect. He let his hand trail down her arm until he was holding her hand in his again. She took another step closer to him, getting dangerously close to being flush against him, still smiling up at him.

He brought his free hand to touch her neck, and when his fingers brushed her jaw she molded into him, bringing her body against his. Duke was spellbound; it'd been so long since he'd seen or had someone respond to him the way Jennifer had—the way Jennifer _continued_ to. He wanted to tell her, right then, how much he missed her, how she was always in the back of his mind throughout everything that happened to him the past year, how she was in everything he did.

It was always her. Her smile, her laugh, her voice, her kindness, her courage—everything that made her…her.

"No one has to tell me twice," Holly said in response to Adelaide's offering of wine and pulling Jennifer out of the moment. She blushed up at him and moved away from him, surprised and confused by her actions as she looked over to Holly, and he let her go even though every part of him wanted to pull her back to him. He straightened and sighed internally; at least Holly had missed the quiet exchange between Duke and Jennifer. He was glad; any private moment he was able to get with Jennifer, stolen or otherwise was more than he had come to hope for and more than he thought he deserved.

But, damn it, that was _twice_ now that they'd been interrupted; this was starting to feel like someone was toying with them. Either that, or they really were just that unlucky.

At the table, Holly laid what was apparently another winning hand down in front of Joshua. Jennifer walked passed Duke, now suddenly aware of their proximity and apparently feeling self-conscious about it, and moved towards the fridge, swinging a wide path around him, as Joshua groaned and threw down his cards in defeat. Holly leaned across the table and collected her winnings, chastising him about knowing better than to play cards with his "older and wiser" sister and all but cackling at him, as Jennifer pulled the bottle out of the fridge and handed it to Duke. She was still being careful not to let herself touch him. He tried to smile at her as he took the bottle, but she only blushed and turned from him as she opened a drawer. She pulled out a corkscrew held it out to him as well, struggling to look him in the eye, "Would you, um, would you mind pouring the wine? The glasses are just in that cabinet there—top shelf—and I'll start making plates for everyone."

Duke smirked at her as he set the wine bottle on the counter, still trying to put her at ease, "Can't reach that high, Short Stack?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and shoved at him lightly, her earlier embarrassment apparently forgotten for the moment, "Oh shut _up_, I'm not _that_ short."

"Jennifer, when we went to Cedar Pointe after my wedding, you couldn't go on _half_ the rides," Holly commented from the table, counting her money. Duke half expected her to have a cigar in her mouth as she did; she looked so smug with her small winnings. He was _definitely_ never playing a card game against Holly.

Duke laughed as Jennifer crouched and glared at her, "_That_ is an exaggeration and you know it. Also: No one _asked_ you, Holly."

Holly just chuckled as Jennifer turned back to him, giving him a slightly self-deprecating smile and gesturing emphatically, "_But_ I will admit that the shelf is _slightly_ out of my reach. So if you wouldn't _mind_…"

Duke smirked as he nodded and took the corkscrew from her. They worked briefly in silence, Jennifer staying very focused on the plates in front of her, like she did when she was trying to gather her words or figure out what she wanted to say or do next. Duke waited patiently, knowing that when she was ready, she'd say something until finally, Jennifer spoke.

"Quite a rundown of my family history you had there; where does _that_ fit on your 'normal first date talk' list?" Jennifer asked, still focusing on her task a little too intently.

Duke uncorked the bottle with an audible _pop_, and set it on the counter as he reached for the glasses. He smirked at her, "Well, you said it yourself; this isn't exactly a _normal_ first date. Usually we save the 'meet the family' part until further down the line."

"Ah, well, I imagine we also save the 'I know you better than you know yourself'-shtick until around then as well," She replied.

He chuckled, "No time like the present."

He pulled out four glasses and started pouring as Jennifer commented, glancing at him and smirking, "Ah-ha, so when do we do _your_ family history rundown?"

Duke shook his head, it was his turn to focus a bit too intently on his task, "If I have a say in the matter: Not until _much_ later and not until I am _very_ drunk."

She chuckled briefly, before sensing something in his tone that told her that, while joking, he was serious. And there was something in his body language. There had been the slightest shift at the mention of his family; it still seemed casual and relaxed but there was something…_tense_ in him. It reminded her of how he had interacted with the man in the park. She glanced at him briefly, unsure of how to read him, but chose to stand next to him all the same, and began creating a line of plates on the side of the counter closest to the table. She changed the subject, "Well, I'd just figured you'd already know all about mine. I thought _I_ was the one with memory lapse."

Duke smirked at her but at her anticipatory glance, he sighed and said quietly so only Jennifer could hear him, "This is one of those times where it would be really easy to lie to you."

She arched an eyebrow at him, prompting him to quickly add, "I won't."

She tilted her head back in half a nod, smirking at him, but waiting for him continue without saying anything. He just sighed, "I'm not sure _what_ to say just yet, and I can't—I don't _deserve_ to ask you to _trust_ me but—,"

"Duke, my first encounter with you would've sent a more _rational_ thinking woman to the police." He smirked at her. She returned the smile and continued, "And _yet_, here I am, in my cousin's kitchen, with _you_, after a _date_. I think the fact that I trust you in some regard is a _completely_ reasonable assumption."

He turned to her, his surprise clear on his face but he was smiling. She grinned back and reached for his hand, giving it a careful squeeze at his side, and saying quietly, "Tell me what you can for now, and we'll talk about the rest later, yeah?"

He squeezed her fingers and nodded, "Yeah. Okay. For now, let's just say that I…I feel like I need to talk to Adelaide a bit more."

She arched an eyebrow at him, her suspicion clear in her features, but she nodded, "Alright. And at some point you'll tell me what all this is about?"

He nodded back, "As soon as I have more things figured out, I _will_ tell you."

Holly approached the counter and grabbed a plate and a glass from the counter, smirking as Jennifer pulled her hand away from Duke's. Jennifer scrunched her nose at the look Holly was giving her, prompting Holly to laugh at her. Jennifer snuck a peek at Duke, like a child looking at her accomplice in a crime, and he gave her an indulgent smile; Holly could smirk all she wanted at catching them holding hands, she'd missed the moment that mattered.

Holly glanced at the counter briefly, once again missing the exchange between Duke and Jennifer, and, apparently noting the missing fifth glass, asked, "No wine for you, Duke?"

"Not if I'm driving you back to your hotel tonight." Duke answered as she turned and placed the plate and glass in front of Joshua.

Holly turned back and grabbed another plate, "Well, I was actually thinking of staying the night at Josh's."

"Oh, what, so you can get sloppy drunk and rub your winnings in my face some more?" Josh commented from the table, indignantly cutting into his steak, making him look more like a little brother than he had since Duke had first met him.

Holly rolled her eyes as she sat next to him at the table with her own meal, "I do _not_ get sloppy."

Joshua just snickered at her as she continued, "And that's right; you've caught me. You've seen _right_ through my ruse of spending some _quality_ time with my little brother. It's all an elaborate ploy to mock you further over a _card game_. Well done, Sherlock. We're all _very_ impressed."

Joshua turned and made a face at her as she jokingly pushed his face away, making them both chuckle at each other. Jennifer grabbed a plate and glass to set at the seat to Joshua's right for Adelaide. She turned and grabbed another plate and glass as Duke came around the counter, carrying his own plate and silverware. Jennifer sat opposite Joshua, and Duke sat to her right, leaving the chair at the head of the table open for Adelaide, as Holly addressed Duke, pointing at him with her fork, "My _point_ being: don't go holding back on _my_ account."

"Oh, I'm not; I'm holding back because even _without_ you, _I_ still have to drive home." Duke answered, cutting into his steak.

There was a rustling as the beaded curtain parted and Adelaide came back in, "I was actually thinking about that,"

"Adelaide, your super hearing is _astounding_," Holly said in disbelief.

Adelaide shrugged, smirking at her, as she took her seat and sipped at her wine, "It's a mother thing; came with the ability to know the _exact_ moment my daughter's done something wrong."

Holly raised her eyebrows as she half nodded, tilting her head back and smiling back at her in response, mouthing an "Ah" at her.

Adelaide continued, looking back at Duke, an unsettling and mischievous glint in her eyes that seemed to immediately set Jennifer on edge, "You know, Duke, it _is_ getting late, and the couch on the main floor isn't _much_ but it's _plenty_ comfortable—,"

"Adelaide." Jennifer mumbled, a warning in her tone and a blush already in her cheeks.

"—and if you _want_," Adelaide continued, apparently choosing to ignore Jennifer but a telltale glint in her eyes, "you're more than welcome to stay the night. And we could always use the help tomorrow; there won't be much of a crowd since it's Sunday, we usually do more organization work for the shop, and I know _Jennifer_ would really appreciate the help,"

Jennifer covered her eyes with her left hand, her face now bright red, and mumbled to herself, "God, you are the _worst_ wingman."

Duke quirked an eyebrow at Jennifer as she sheepishly peeked at him between her fingers and mouthed to her, "Wingman?"

Her blush deepened and she hid her eyes again.

Adelaide leaned on the table towards him, holding her glass out to him and smiling, "So? What do you say?"

Duke glanced at Jennifer again. Of course he wanted to stay. More than anything, so long as it meant that he was close to her, but not if she didn't want him to. This was about her, like it had always been, and if she wanted him to leave, he would. She just had to say the word. He just really, _really_ wanted that word to be "stay."

She finally managed to quell her embarrassment and annoyance at her cousin enough to look at him and seemed to be able to know what he was asking in his gaze. She pulled her lips into mouth nervously as she tried to smile at him and reached for his hand under the table. His hand met hers on her knee and she squeezed his fingers. They looked at each other for a moment before she whispered, "I'd—I mean, I'd hate to make you feel like you _have_ to do something but, um, I'd, uh, I'd _like_ for…for you to stay."

Duke grinned at her and happily reached for Adelaide's offered glass with his free hand, "I say: That couch better be more than just 'plenty' comfortable."

Adelaide grinned at him, "I guess we'll find out."

Jennifer, without thinking, reached out and intercepted the glass from Duke's hand, "Ho-oh no, you don't. Not red wine."

At his confused look, she continued, "We've got a very small, _very_ easily made cranky six year old sleeping upstairs and _you_ snore—very loudly—when you drink red wine,"

She had handed the glass back to Adelaide, who was looking at her in amused confusion, and had walked to get a beer from the fridge for Duke. She was walking back to the table, opening the bottle as she went, when she realized how quiet it'd gotten. Duke was giving her the same look he'd given her in the café after she'd remembered holding his hand, which only furthered her confusion. She turned her gaze to Little John as an indicator for the mood of the room. Little John seemed remarkably unmoved by the events around him, however, as he looked at Jennifer with his head on his paws, his tail thumping gently on the floor. Whatever it was that had captured the tongues of her family, Little John seemed as unaffected by it as she was.

She looked at the surprised faces of the people around the table, not understanding why they were looking at her like that, when she realized what she'd said; more importantly, she realized what she'd _remembered_.

She'd been sitting in the opened trunk of her car, when he came and sat with her, placing his hand on her legs. She'd covered his hand with hers and he'd asked her something about "this" being her first time fighting a monster with a magical book.

_"How do you feel about dating Hermione?"_

_"Well we all have our stuff."_

He'd looked at her gravely then and said, _"I snore. When I drink red wine."_

And she'd laughed at him, however slightly; she'd still been too afraid, too shaken up by what had happened that day—but what had happened that day?—and agreed, adding that he also snored very _loudly_ when he did. He'd kissed her forehead, and she felt some of her uncertainly and fear ebb, even if it was only slightly.

She sat in her seat again next to Duke, letting out a "Oh" as she did.

Duke reached out and took the beer from her so that he could hold her hand in his as Adelaide said carefully, "Jen? You okay?"

She heard Little John shift closer towards her under the table, and felt the gentle weight of his head on her feet. It was different from how he'd done it earlier, after the stove door slammed closed; it was less protective, more comforting. She was confused and a little scared, and he was responding to that. He was a good dog.

She tried to pull more from her most recent memory flash. A magical book? What the hell did that even _mean_? And fighting a _monster_ with that magical book? It sounded…_fictitious_; like something out of one of the millions books in the shop just on the other side of the beaded curtain. That couldn't possibly be right.

She tried to get more context for what had happened that day that led to them sitting in the trunk of her car like that, but she was just met with another throb; one of the most painful she'd had since yesterday. She realized that she'd started to take her throb-less memories, that had been coming up more since she'd finally spoken to Duke, for granted. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, not trying to push on it, but just trying to clear her mind enough so that the pain would stop.

Adelaide, apparently sensing the throb or misinterpreting Jennifer's expression, said again, "Jennifer? _Talk_ to us, Cos; what's going on?"

Jennifer came back to herself, to the moment, and gave Duke's hand, who's own grip had started to become a bit desperate, a squeeze as she smiled at Adelaide, "Just, uh, just another memory flash. But, uh, it's gone now."

Adelaide quirked an eyebrow at her, "A memory flash? Without pushing?"

Jennifer just nodded as she took a drink from her wine. She hadn't had a chance yet to tell Adelaide about the ease with which some of her memories had been coming, specifically her memories about Duke, but she didn't really want to get into that in front of everyone. She didn't want to really get into _anything_ involving her memories right now; she just wanted some normalcy, even if it was just for another hour or so.

She turned to Duke, "Is that kind of beer alright? It's been some time since I last raided Adelaide's liquor cabinet but if you want something stronger or—,"

"What? No, just—forget the beer!" Duke interrupted, gesturing emphatically as he spoke before focusing intently on her again, "Jennifer, are—are you _okay_?"

She smiled at him, trying to be reassuring, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I was just, uh, _remembering_…something."

He kept studying and her gaze turned the slightest bit desperate as she tried to communicate to him: _Later. Please. Not now. I will tell you. Later._

He studied her for another moment, understanding what she wanted, but also suddenly fighting every impulse he had to either tell the others to go away so they could be alone, or to just grab Jennifer and take her back to the Rouge to do that anyway. Though, in all honesty, the latter had been the case since he found her again.

He just sighed and picked up the beer bottle she'd brought him to look at the brand, "Yeah. This kind's fine."

She smiled her thanks to him, squeezing his fingers again, and looked at Holly as she asked a question about her most recent project. Holly gave her a speculative look before allowing the subject to be changed, giving some details about the recent series of paintings that she was working on. Joshua, for his part, seemed unfazed by Jennifer's flash—concerned, perhaps, but primarily unfazed—as he continued to eat his dinner. He did, however, glance at Adelaide who only smirked at him when their eyes met, earning a responding smirk from Joshua. Adelaide turned her gaze back to Duke and Jennifer and kept glancing between them, a calculating look in her eyes, even as a small, knowing smile lightened her features; an expression that seemed to be her default.

Duke was getting really annoyed with that look.

* * *

><p>For it's rough start, dinner went surprisingly well. The women spoke with the fluidity of old friends long parted and reunited—all old jokes, shared memories, conversations exchanged with a glance, wits so sharp Duke was certain someone had to be bleeding at times, and rapid fire exchanges. Jennifer laughed so hard at one point she almost snorted her red wine out of her nose, which only sent the rest of the table further into hysterics. He learned about how Joshua had taken to running the art gallery next door to not only encourage local artists, but to showcase many of Holly's new pieces before they were available elsewhere, about the three years Jennifer had spent living with Holly, Andre, and a couple of his friends during their undergraduate years, he even learned about the first time Jennifer tried pot. He wondered if part of the reason they were all so willing to share had anything to do with not one, but <em>three<em> bottles of wine that were opened over the course of the meal. For all her jokes and assumptions about what Duke probably already knew about her, though, he actually learned a great deal more about her over the course of the meal than he had in their time together. Then again, what time they had had together had been cut unfairly short, so who knows when he would've actually learned these things if things had gone differently.

Regardless, Jennifer had been downright _giddy_ throughout the whole meal, laughing loudly and easily; in Haven, he'd seen her adapt to situations seamlessly and thrive, but _here_, here she was in her element. She had confidence, she spoke plainly and abruptly, and she was _happy._

Though, for all their laughter, none of them could do anything about how some inconsistencies showed up in some of the stories about Adelaide and Jennifer's shared childhood. Jennifer had been sharing a story from their childhood and had turned to Adelaide to verify a fact about the event only to not only second guess herself and her certainty that Adelaide had been there, but to also be met with some confusion and negation from Adelaide.

"But I was sure…" Jennifer had started to say, her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked at Adelaide.

Adelaide had shaken her head at her cousin, her features etched with sadness, as she said, "Sorry, Jen, I, uh, I don't think I was there."

Thankfully, that had only brought the room down briefly, as immediately after that Holly shared some extravagant story about a trip she and her husband had gone on, distracting them. Though Jennifer still seemed slightly distracted throughout the rest of the meal.

Duke shifted on the couch on the main floor of the shop. Dinner had ended a few hours ago, Holly and Joshua walking (well,_ stumbling_ in Holly's case) back to his place next door, and Adelaide and Jennifer both leaving Duke shortly after. As Jennifer and Adelaide said their goodbyes to Joshua and Holly, Duke had hazarded a text to Dwight with Adelaide's name in it, asking him to pull up what he could about the bookstore owner. Dwight had replied with a simple "I'll look into it," earning a quiet vote of thanks from Duke to the Universe for Dwight's inherent understanding of when to ask questions and when to not, when Jennifer had rejoined him in the kitchen.

After Adelaide had headed up to the loft, Jennifer had brought him an extra pillow and blanket before telling him about the bathroom that was in the back far right corner of the store. They had looked at each other for a long moment after she'd finished talking about some of the basic things Duke could need in the night, and he'd thought, or more accurately hoped, that they'd be able to pick up where they'd left off in the kitchen or even outside of the shop. She'd seemed to consider that possibility as well before blushing at him and mumbling a quick "Good night" to him, leaving him to fall back onto the couch in exasperation. He'd placed his boots on the floor by the end of the couch that was closest to the store entrance, and he'd thrown his over shirt over the arm of the same end of the couch.

The couch was, in fact, rather comfortable, even for how old it looked to be, but Duke knew from the start that he wasn't going to really be sleeping; he hadn't actually been able to sleep for a year, and when he _had_ been able to sleep, it was only with the assistance of a lot more alcohol than what he'd had tonight. He'd hoped that maybe since he was at least in the vicinity of Jennifer, he'd feel at ease enough to finally sleep. So far, that was proving to be a fool's hope.

He stood from the couch, giving up on sleep for now, and started browsing the shelves of the store, using the light from the streetlight pouring in through the front windows to read the titles; not really looking for anything specific, but he figured, hey, he was in a bookstore, just as well read if he couldn't sleep.

As he browsed, he let his mind wonder back over the events of the dinner. Duke hadn't been to _many_ family dinners in his life; the ones he _had_ been to certainly hadn't been so involved, nor had they been so warm and welcoming. Holly, Adelaide, and Joshua didn't press Duke for his own stories about his past or travels, but when he did share, they welcomed him. They didn't know him, hardly had any reason to trust him, and yet they had welcomed him into their home, to their table, into their _lives_; just like Jennifer had from the moment she met him.

He wondered, again, if part of whatever it was that Adelaide was made her so similar in manner and habit to Jennifer was the reason for why she seemed so willing to let him into her home and near her daughter. Holly he could excuse, even understand; while he hadn't actually met the woman until all of this had happened, he at least _knew_ Holly and knew how she was with Jennifer enough to see them interact and mirror each other in interesting ways. Adelaide, however, was still an enigma. An enigma who continued to try to convince him, in part, that she was on his side or at least willing to be, to be sure, but an enigma nonetheless. If Duke were in Adelaide's position, he'd keep Jennifer as far away from him as possible.

Duke sighed to himself; but then again, if he'd had Jennifer at all, this wouldn't be an issue to begin with.

He pulled a book from a shelf to flip through. As he did, another book fell off the shelf and onto the floor, hitting him on the foot. He flinched at the sound it made as it landed, and at the slight pang of pain that ran through him from where the book landed, and looked towards the back of the store where Jennifer had gone at the end of the night. While he wouldn't mind a late night chat, he didn't want the circumstances of it to be because he was out on the main floor of her "cousin's" shop making noise, potentially snooping. Something about it reminded Duke of one of the first late night chats he and Jennifer had had when she'd first moved onto the Rouge. She'd been rummaging through his cabinets to find a saucepan, and had been mumbling something about how he was going to think she snooping around. But that had been then, and this was now.

When nothing happened, Duke let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and leaned down to pick up the runaway book, only to freeze halfway to it.

"Oh, what the _fuck_," Duke whispered, grabbing it from the floor.

_The Child of Ruin_ was written in red, scrawling script across the top of the battered paperback. It was a primarily black cover except for the image of a door that'd been cracked open, letting in a bright, white light through but the light wasn't strong enough to illuminate anything more than part of the door. Under the image, where one would expect to find the author's name, there was only_ Anonymous_ in the same script as the title. The design reminded him of that damn _Unstake My Heart_ book that had led them to the lighthouse and ultimately to the situation he found himself in now, and he debated just tossing the book out into the street or, hell, maybe into an open fire.

Instead, Duke put the other book back on the shelf that he'd originally pulled from it, and took it with him back to the couch. He climbed back onto it over the back of it and fell heavily onto the cushions, still studying the cover. He turned it over, hoping to see a synopsis or _something_ that would give some insight into the contents of the book, but something told him he already knew what the book was about.

There wasn't much of anything on the back for him to review anyway, which for another, more _normal_ book, would be suspect enough, but for this book and for the circumstances that he found it in, he imagined that he should just be grateful he got a title and an author name, even if it was one _hell_ of a cop-out author name. He stretched back out on the couch, holding the book in his hand and studying it. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, having a staring contest with the cover of the book, before he finally just sighed at it, "Fucking _fine_. You win."

He opened the front cover of the book and immediately fought the urge to throw it across the room or to find some lighter fluid and a match to burn the damn thing.

The dedication page read: _Congratulations. You found_ me_. But will_ she _find her way back to_ you_? Good luck._

"What. The _fuck._" Duke growled at the book.

The book, of course, did not reply.

And even if it had, it probably wouldn't have helped its case.

Duke flipped the pages, probably a bit more aggressively than was necessary and threatening to rip the pages right from their binding, until he found the first chapter and began reading, _Jennifer Mason was brought into this world on June 12th, 1981. She was adopted and raised by Arthur and Imogen Mason…_

The first chapter covered the whole first part of her childhood. The highs, the lows, and it ended with Jennifer being in the kitchen of her childhood home, and her mother telling her about how the little things in life were the most important. There was no mention of Byron Howard, or of Haven, no mention of an inter-dimensional space where Jennifer had been pulled from, there was no Adelaide; it was just her life as Duke understood it it had been when he first met her. Part of him felt like he was reading a diary; becoming privy to part of her life that he had no business knowing about yet or ever. _She_ hadn't told him about this, _she_ hadn't shared this with him. He closed the book and shoved it between the back of the couch and the cushion, and began debating what he should do with the damn book, when he heard the quiet sound of a door opening and gently closing from somewhere at the back of the shop.

He heard metal _jangling_ from that same direction, as well as a hushed and anxious, "_Sh_, Little John."

He smiled at the voice, and rolled slightly to pick up his phone from the floor by his shoes to check the time; a little after three in the morning.

She must've had a nightmare.

He had a sudden feeling of déjà vu, of the first time he found her making hot chocolate in the kitchenette on the Rouge. Of course, then she'd been fighting with his flatware and talking to herself about how he was going to think she was snooping through his stuff and trying to find something she shouldn't _be_ finding. She walked around the corner of a bookcase and peeked at him, trying to determine if he was awake or not. Part of her hoped that maybe Little John's _jangling_ hadn't woken Duke on the couch, but another part also hoped that he _was_ awake, just to make her walking around a bit less awkward. It was going to be awkward either way, she knew, but maybe if he was awake, that awkwardness would be lessened. He was still wearing his jeans but he'd shed his over shirt, revealing his toned and tattooed arms. She wondered the story behind his tattoos; Adelaide usually either had a story behind hers or made one up and something told Jennifer he could have some rather interesting stories behind his. Jennifer tried to hide that she was staring at him as he waggled his fingers at her in a wave.

She sighed and stepped out around the bookcase, glad that it was dark enough that he probably couldn't see her blush, with Little John right next to her as she asked, "It was Little John shaking his head that woke you up, wasn't it?"

Duke chuckled at her as he sat up, Little John took that as an invitation to put his face in Duke's, tail wagging at a mile a minute. Duke grinned at Little John as he scratched his head and body, mumbling quietly to him about how he was doing and if he was a good boy, to the complete enjoyment of Little John. Duke looked back at Jennifer as she came to stand by the couch, her arms crossed over her chest and her usual mug hanging from one of her hands, "Nah, I've been up for a while."

She gave him an apologetic look, uncrossing her arms and tugging slightly on the hem of her purple t-shirt, "Sorry, I knew this couch probably wasn't the best place to set you up."

Duke shook his head again as Little John sat in front of him, now happily panting as Duke scrunched his face in his hands, "The couch is fine. I've been having trouble sleeping for awhile now."

She shifted nervously, "Oh. I'm sorry."

Duke waved her off, "Don't worry about it. And besides, it would look like I'm not the only one. What're you doing up?"

Jennifer ran her hand through her hair, and he noticed the slight tremor in her hand as she did. With the hair moved further out of her face, he noticed that her eyes were a bit puffy, as if she'd been crying. Definitely a nightmare.

She let out a slow, careful breath as she said, "I had a nightmare. I was just going to—uh. Well, it's just—um, I usually make—,"

"Hot chocolate?" He smiled at her, saving her from having to explain the whole ritual to him again.

She laughed weakly at him, shaking her head, "Why am I even surprised."

He studied her for a moment before asking, "Do you…do you want some company?"

She smiled at him, "Sure. Since you're up anyway."

She headed towards the kitchenette with Duke and Little John following after her. Little John went to sit in front of the fridge and kept his eyes on Jennifer. He wasn't watching her protectively, like Duke would expect, but rather like this was part of their routine. Duke wondered what Little John was to Jennifer. There was no way that the people who'd taken Jennifer couldn't falsified the love the dog clearly had for Jennifer, but at the same time there was no possible way that Jennifer could've had him for as long as she claimed she did. And then there was the fact that Little John seemed to trust Duke not only in general, but even just being _near_ Jennifer. Duke sighed internally; Was _anything_ in this fucking shop normal?

As she carefully started pulling out a saucepan and the milk so they wouldn't make too much noise, Jennifer said over her shoulder to Duke, "So. You know the whole q-e-two deal with my post-nightmare process, I take it?"

"Well enough," Duke commented as he leaned against the wall he'd stood against before dinner as she grabbed a spoon from a drawer, "Just waiting for you to start talking about it."

She let out a breath of a laugh as she poured the milk into the pan and began to warm the milk on the stove, "Nightmares probably don't fit on that 'normal first date talk' list of yours, either, huh?"

Duke smirked, "Sweetheart, I think we've blown anything 'normal' about this straight outta the water by now."

"Oh, I don't know; something tells me this wouldn't be the first time you spent the night at a girl's house after only one date," She commented, smirking at him again with her eyes sparkling like they did when she was being sassy at him, as she began to stir the milk fairly consistently.

He shook his head at her, "And you'd be right; but usually I'd be _sharing_ a bed with the girl, not benched on her couch."

"I don't doubt it." She conceded, but then she grinned at him, "But I'm worth the wait."

_You don't know the half of it, Short Stack,_ he thought, barely containing his smile. He got close to vocalizing the thought, but instead went with, "So. About that nightmare."

She sighed, knowing that they could probably only flirt for so long before they had to eventually get back to the reason for their three a.m. chat, "Okay. So I had this nightmare, right?"

"Established," Duke conceded, crossing his arms over his chest.

She made a face at him but continued, still stirring the milk, "I was…I was in this room. It was dark green, like a forest green? with white trim for the baseboards and for the closet doors. And I was talking to a therapist who—who, actually now that I'm thinking about it, kind of looked like that weird guy from the park today—I'm sure Freud would be proud of that one—but besides that, it was _extra_ weird, because when I had this same dream _last_ night it was this blonde woman with a nose ring who I thought was supposed to be my friend—but anyway, _he_ was sitting in front of the closet doors, and I just kept trying to tell him about this…this _evil_, that was with me, and that I needed to stay in the room that we were in, so that what ever it was I had with me couldn't get out."

Duke furrowed his brow at her and continued for her as the milk began to boil slightly, "And the therapist didn't listen to you and he opened the door and evil got out and that therapist locked you in that room, right?"

She stopped and looked at him, shocked, as he continued, "And the therapist was reading something to you over the intercom that you couldn't understand while you were trapped in that room and suddenly the room was full of doors; some next to each other, and some on the ceiling and floor?"

She was watching him intently, eyes wide, and he pushed on, "And you started—you started trying _all_ the doors, trying to get out, but all of them were locked. So you, you pounded and _screamed_ while the same three thoughts kept repeating over and over and _over_ in your head—,"

"No one hears me. No one cares. I am _never_ getting out of this room." She'd turned from him as she said it to turn off the stove and so she could pull a packet of hot chocolate mix from the box on the counter. She set the packet next to the mug and gave the milk in the saucepan a few more stirs.

She looked over her shoulder at him, risking a nervous smile, as she carefully poured the milk into the mug, "You gonna tell me my shoe size now? Guess my weight or astrological sign? I'm almost _certain_ I've seen this carnival trick."

Duke rolled his eyes at her, earning a chuckle from her as she mixed her drink and turned to look at him, "So. I've obviously had this dream before. And it apparently happened while we were together, though I, of course, can't remember it."

It wasn't a question but Duke uncrossed his arms, tapping his knuckles lightly against the wall behind him as he brought his arms down to his sides, and nodded to her, "Yep."

"Hm." She hummed back, taking a drink from her mug and smirking at him, "So, I guess it'd be _pointless_ to tell you the _rest_ of it."

Duke gave her a confused look, "The rest?"

She gave him a self-satisfied smile as she licked some excess hot chocolate from her lips—she didn't miss how his eyes seemed to zero in on the action, and that gave her another boost to her confidence as she said, "Oh, so I finally get to surprise Mr. Know-It-All-Pirate-Guy? Must be my lucky day."

He mirrored the face she'd made at him earlier, earning a giggle out of her. It was short lived, however, as her features darkened and the memory of the dream came back to the forefront of her mind, "You know, it probably wouldn't have been that bad of a dream except for the end. And I don't mean the being trapped thing. And actually, you knowing about it _does_ explain—at least in part—why the last part happened. Happens? Oh Christ _that's_ going to get annoying. And confusing. But, then again, this whole _thing_ is—,"

"Jennifer." Duke interrupted gently. She'd started to ramble and her breathing had started to get rapid, all things that happened when she was anxious about something she was talking about. Duke wanted to tell her that she could stop, that she didn't have to tell him anything about it if she was so worried about it, but he knew what she'd say if he offered: "A promise's a promise."

She took a couple of deep, slow breaths, calming herself down. And as if she had read his mind, she mumbled, "I know. It's okay. I _want_ to tell you. I just…"

He nodded and offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "Take as long as you need, Short Stack. I've got all the time in the world for you."

She let another breath of a laugh, "I'm starting to see that."

He watched her, waiting for her to tell him the rest of her dream. She took another steadying breath and continued, "Right. So I'm locked in the room just…just _pounding_ on those doors and those same three thoughts are running through my head and that's, you know, it's _own_ special brand of bullshit, when it changes—I don't mean the dream _itself_ changes but that my…my…aw hell, what's a good word for it, um, my _consciousness_ of the dream changes? Does that make sense?"

Duke just shrugged, "It's _your_ head, Jennifer. If that's what you say happened, then that's what happened."

Jennifer sighed and took a drink of her hot chocolate. She continued, "Sure. Whatever. Okay. So my _consciousness_ of the dream changed—like, I became aware that after I'd realized I'd been trapped, _that_ was when I'm supposed to wake up—but I _don't_. So I go from thinking 'let me out' to 'let me wake up.' Except that it isn't _just_, y'know, 'let me wake up'—which would be it's own kind of panic inducing mantra—it's: 'Let me wake up! _Please!_ Let me wake up, he _needs_ me! Let me wake up!'"

Jennifer sighed again, shifting nervously under Duke's gaze that had gone from confused and anticipatory to a mixture of confusion, calculation, anticipation, and hope. She took another drink to try to buy herself some time before she told him the rest of the dream, and about the voice that she was certain, now, that was his. "And then, while I'm still trying to get myself to wake up, I, uh, I hear _another_ voice."

She took a steadying breath and looked at him, "_Your_ voice."

He raised his eyebrows briefly in surprise and stood from the wall, taking a few careful steps towards her until he could lean against the counter. He was careful to stop before he crowded her out, but he still wanted to be close enough that if she wanted to, she could reach out to him. The situation was so eerily similar to the first time Jennifer had had a nightmare on the Rouge that he half expected her to start rambling about Pluto not being a planet.

"What…what was I saying?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She bit her lip nervously and shifted again in front of the stove. Little John stood and walked over to her. When he was beside her, he nudged her free hand with his face so that it rested on his head as he sat. She looked to Little John, smiling weakly at him, and scratched his head as she said, "You…you were calling my name. You kept saying my name, over and over again, and you sounded—you sounded _desperate_ and scared and—and _lost_ and you said I wasn't breathing and you kept asking me to wake up and just before I finally managed to wake up—just before I open my eyes, you—you sound like you're in pain, like something was _forcing_ you to stop."

Little John whimpered gently under her hand and leaned against her. She knew he wasn't _worried_ about her; talking about the nightmare wasn't what made her feel anxious or was what had gotten her speaking so rapidly. Her nerves had more to do with how she'd woken up both times after hearing Duke's voice like that in her dreams. She moved her hand so that she was scratching the side of his neck, and he tilted his head up towards her, still watching her.

She nervously glanced at Duke, "And both times, when I've woken up, I've felt all that too. I've woken up scared, and feeling desperate and lost, but mostly like I'm trapped. And…and like someone's _missing_."

She hadn't missed how Duke stilled, or the tension that sprang up in his shoulders and forehead as his gaze fell just to her left, but she didn't know what to do or say to lessen it in him. She set her mug down on the counter and took a step towards him. When he didn't move away or seem to really notice, she risked reaching up to touch his face to get him to look at her. When her fingers brushed his cheek, he all but melted into her touch, his eyes sliding closed as his right hand rose and pressed her hand more firmly against his cheek. Feeling confident, she brought her other hand up to hold his face in her hands and to tilt his head down towards her so that when she spoke to him, he'd look at her. He let her move him how she wanted.

Duke felt like he was going to fall apart. She was the one who'd woken up from what could easily be described as night terror, hearing what had been Duke's last words to her, she was the one who was scared and desperate. Yet rather than ask for something from him, for _comfort_ from him, she saw that _he_ was struggling and wanted to help him. He kept his eyes closed, focusing on her touch, when she whispered his name.

He opened his eyes to look at her and felt what was left of the tension in him fade away. She smiled up at him gently, and all he felt was her warmth. She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, "Are you okay?"

He rubbed her forearm, trying to find the right words when he just said, "I watched you die."

Her eyes widened in surprise and he instinctively tightened his grip on her arms, if only slightly, but she didn't pull away from him as he continued, his voice gruff, "What…what you heard—in your dream—that was—that was what I said before I lost you."

She didn't say anything for a long time, she just let out a quiet, "Oh."

He nodded, leaning down towards her, closer to her. She moved to trail her hands down his arms until she was holding his hands in hers. She smirked weakly at him, "Well. That just _complicates_ things, doesn't it?"

He let out a weak laugh, looking down at their hands, "Yeah."

She looked at him, eyes bright in confusion, barely hidden fear and shining with tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. Her voice cracked as she asked, "What, um, what do you think it means?"

Duke shook his head as he let go of one of her hands and carefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I don't know."

She coughed, trying to make her sob sound like a laugh, blinking and causing the tears that had gathered to spill from her eyes. It was his turn to hold her face in his hands as he brushed the stray tears away with his thumbs, whispering, "Hey, sh, it's okay."

Something in how he was holding her face reminded him of when they had argued about him getting re-Troubled.

_"We were supposed to have our flavored-coffee commercial tomorrow."_

Before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest. His scent surrounded her and it was so _familiar_ and safe that she didn't bother trying to keep herself from pressing completely against him. Little John whined gently, taking a step towards them and keeping his eyes on Jennifer but not getting any closer than he had to. Duke froze briefly, unsure of what to do with his arms, before wrapping them around her and holding her close as another sob tremored through her.

This was unfair.

This was _not_ how he wanted the first time she was back in his arms to go. He ran his fingers through her hair and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head (while he was at it, this wasn't how he'd envisioned the first time he kissed her would go either), "I don't know, but we'll figure it out, okay? We will. I promise."

She nodded into his chest and took a breath so deep her shoulders lifted and sagged with it. She pulled away and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, letting out another breath before she turned and looked at the contents of her mug. If Duke didn't know any better, he'd think she was trying to avoid looking at him. She stared into her mug for a moment before remembering that she still had some milk left so she turned and started making herself another hot chocolate.

"You okay?" Duke asked quietly, after her.

"'Okay' is kind of a…_loaded_ word." She said weakly. She was many things right now but "okay" was decidedly not one of them. She was _tired_ and angry and wanted her mind to be on her side for once.

She paused at her own phrasing.

_For once._

When had her mind ever been against her? Her newly unearthed memories would suggest that this wasn't the first time her mind had been her enemy, but could she even trust _that_?

_Jesus, Jennifer, not tonight,_ she thought to herself as she stirred her mug, _no more tonight._

She turned back to him, sighing, and asked, "Would…would you mind if I sat up with you? You said yourself you've been having trouble sleeping, and I could use any distraction right now to—,"

"No." He interrupted eagerly, "No, I wouldn't mind."

She ran a hand through hair again, and smiled at him. As she headed back towards the couch, Little John trailing close behind her, she said, "Think we can actually keep our conversation of the normal variety? I think we've been failing on it most of today."

"Well, third time's a charm." Duke tried to joke as he turned to follow her.

Jennifer let out a chuckle as she sat on the floor in front of the couch, with Little John stretching out on the floor next to Duke's boots.

Duke gestured to the couch itself, "You don't have to—,"

She shook her head as she took a drink from her mug, pulling her legs close to her chest, "Grab a book; I'll read you something."

He arched an eyebrow at her, "I thought we were going to talk?"

"I think that if we're gonna keep talking about things that—until recently—only seemed to happen to people in story books, I'd rather read about how they dealt with it." She smiled at him, "And I have it on very good, six year old authority that my reading voice is both entertaining and soothing; maybe I can help you get some sleep."

Duke shook his head at her as walked towards her. He glanced briefly at the bookcase to his right. As he browsed, she said, "But if my reading doesn't do it, I've been told my singing voice isn't that bad."

"Yeah I heard you singing something to Brielle earlier tonight," Duke commented.

She nodded, "Oh that was her song—On the day Desmond found out Adelaide was pregnant, he heard this song called "Brielle" and immediately took to calling the baby that. He would sing it to her when she'd act up in Adelaide, and that was always something he sang to her at night."

She smiled fondly at the memory and, though she was sure he already knew, explained anyway, "But I've been singing since I was six; through school and a little through my parents' church. I even kept it up slightly in college. And having a niece keeps me in pretty good practice."

Duke chuckled lightly, "Why am I not surprised that you're a choir girl."

"_Show_ choir girl." She corrected, smirking at him, "A lot more dancing. But I draw the line at that for tonight."

He glanced at her, giving her a sly smile, "Oh? And what would I have to do to get _that_ demonstration?"

She caught on to his meaning and returned his smile, "Wine and dine me, Sailor. Then we'll talk about a dance."

He mockingly scowled at her, "Such work."

She beamed at him, "Oh, but I'm _worth_ it."

Duke chuckled as he pulled out a battered copy of the collected works of Rumi. He held it out for her to examine and she grinned at him, taking the book from him, "You didn't strike me as the Rumi-kind,"

He got comfortable on the couch behind her; she was sitting by the middle of the couch so he could still see her face, and made a face at her, "I'm just full of surprises, Short Stack,"

She giggled as she briefly skimmed the pages of the book before finding a poem and beginning to read to him. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of her voice, losing himself to it. She read for quite some time, pausing every once in a while to look back at him to see if he was still awake. Almost as soon as he realized that she'd stopped, his eyes would open again and he'd be looking at her, waiting for her to continue. Eventually, the warm milk from her hot chocolates starting to make her drowsy, she laid down, resting her head on Little John's stomach. Little John lifted his head briefly to look at her, only to lie back down, sighing heavily. Duke shifted so that he was lying on his side and was facing towards her, his right arm hanging over the edge of the couch towards her.

She yawned up at him, letting the book fall to rest on her chest, and smiled tiredly at him, "So has this helped at all? You look as awake as you were before."

Duke smiled down at her, "I'm plenty relaxed, if that makes you feel better?"

She smirked at him, struggling to keep her eyes open, "A little. You think you're going to be able to sleep?"

He studied her for a moment, and before he could say anything she said, "And I recognize that this would be another moment where it would be really easy to lie to me; so don't."

He smiled back down at her, "Okay. I won't."

She reached up and threaded her fingers loosely through his, "Good."

He looked at her for a moment before answering her original question, "I think I'll be able to sleep. Thanks to you."

She smiled back at him tiredly, "I do what I can."

He shook his head slightly at her, "No. That's the thing. That's the thing about you; you're always doing _more_ than what you can or what you have to do for people—for _me_."

She ran her thumb over his knuckles, "Was that why you wanted me? I mean—was that why you wanted to…to be with me?"

"Part of it." He said back quietly. That only scratched the surface, but they were both too close to sleep to get into it now. Her eyes slid closed and they didn't open again, her breathing evening out. He watched the book rise and fall on her chest for a moment before carefully grabbing his shirt with his left hand (which took some rather creative maneuvering on his part so that he didn't pull his hand from her), and gently placing it over her as a makeshift blanket. She shifted under it so that it was more around her and so that she was the slightest bit closer to him.

He shifted on the couch, readjusting himself on the couch when he thought he felt her fingers tighten slightly around his. He looked down at her, barely whispering, "Jen?"

"You cut your hair." She mumbled.

"Yeah." He whispered back to her. For the first time in a long time, he felt his own exhaustion catch up to him, enough so that he let her mention of his hair barely faze him.

"Why?" she sighed, barely hiding it as a yawn, "I loved your hair."

"I missed you." he said. He didn't know how else to answer or how else to make her understand, so he said it again as he started to fall asleep, "I missed you so much."

She gently ran her thumb over his knuckles again, "You're growing it back out."

He chuckled, waking up slightly, "You're the boss."

A smile twitched across her face at him as she turned closer towards him, and mumbled, "You're damn right."

They both fell asleep, still loosely connected by their hands.


End file.
